Drowning in the Red Sea
by The Fetid Conceited
Summary: Albel has to go through tough times to assist people he never wanted to see again. Needless to say, he's not taking it so well. [I'm gonna see if I can finish this, even if I have to force myself to do it.]
1. Journey Down the Blue Sewer Pipes

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Author**: Your Euthanized Sleep  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Ocean (as much as I wish I did) and I don't own any characters mentioned in this chapter, but I do own the names of the river, the lost race, and the necklace! W00t!  
**Summary**: A fanfic that was born from a suspicion behind the constant presence of some sort of covering over Albel's forearms. AlbelxSomebody. I don't know who yet.  
**Warning**: Contains self-harm, uber-mild fighting, and cussing. Basically all the good stuff.

* * *

Nobody asks why I wear these evening gloves. Why do I wear evening gloves? Why do I wear a skirt? No one knows and no one cares. 'It's just part of his look…' Right. Part of my look. The same goddamn reason that idiot Sophia has to prance around in those god-awful knee-high stockings with paw prints on them. None of those piss-brained maggots seem to realize that everything I say and do- hell, even everything I wear- serves a purpose. The evening gloves are only there to hide what I do not wish for them to know. If they saw, they'd ask questions, and if they knew, I'd have to kill them. Not that I would mind killing them, I think I would actually enjoy their screams of pain and suffering as I disembowel all of those wastes of life force. But…that would be too much of a hassle to clean up, so instead I settle for hiding it.

There was a leisurely knock at the door, and the slender man gently set the pen on his nightstand. He absent-mindedly stood and shoved the piece of parchment under the mattress and approached the door. He supposed that the one bothering him today is Cliff.

He grasped the cold handle and waited until whoever was on the other side of the door to be in the midst of another knock before he flung it open. "What do you want, maggot?" Albel asked irritably and impatiently, placing his good hand on the doorframe as to bar entry.

"Jeez, don't get your panties in a bunch…" Albel was right… it didn't surprise him. "I just wanted to tell ya dinner's ready if ya want some."

"If I wanted food, I'd be in the kitchen, maggot. Quit wasting my time." Albel slammed the door in Cliff's face. From the sound of it, he nicked Cliff's nose.

Walking gracefully back to the bed, he reached under and pulled out a now somewhat rumpled piece of parchment. Writing things down on a piece of paper seems easier to him, it burns a lot easier than a journal, and besides, journals are a commitment. He didn't want to be forced to write his thoughts down on every page of a journal if he didn't have to. The only downside was that individual sheets are a lot more to keep track of, and that could lead to unwanted trouble should one go missing…

Albel had barely picked up his pen before another knock could be heard at his door, this one softer and more timid. He guessed Fayt this time around. And what do you know… as he opened the door, the blue-haired boy was standing before him, looking a bit worried. He guessed over his flat refusal to eat with those worms, or socialize with them at all.

"Albel… um…" Fayt mumbled, looking down as to not suffer the wrath of Albel's gaze.

"Spit it out, fool… Quit wasting precious minutes of my lifetime…"

"Well… I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you eat for at least a few days, and you're spacing yourself more and more from the group…" Fayt looked up and the worry was as clear as those emerald irises.

"I was right on both accounts…" Albel mused aloud.

"Right about what?" Fayt inquired.

"That it was going to be _you _to bother me this time around and about mundane things such as eating and conversing."

Fayt decided not to reprimand Albel for playing down a vital need and his friends. "You must be psychic." Fayt joked, deciding to lighten up the oppressing mood.

"You must be full of shit." Albel retorted, mimicking Fayt's tone. "Quit worrying yourself over what I choose to do. If I choose to eat, it's not going to be around the likes of them, and if I choose to converse with them, it's not going to be pretty… Now go waste someone else's time." Albel, once again, slammed the door in someone's face.

* * *

Fayt sighed and walked away from the shut door. He couldn't accomplish what he had hoped to do, which was coax Albel out of his cave to see the light of day and taste a substance called food, but at least he accomplished a few other things. For instance, he was only called fool once and there was also a speech error in what he had said. Albel did not specify the entire team when he mentioned eating with someone; he left Fayt out. Nevertheless, this little problem was a weight on Fayt's conscience. What if Albel is anorexic? What if it's a call for help?

* * *

_What if it's nothing? _Albel thought quietly to himself, not sure where the thought came from. He leaned back into the soft cushions, which felt good against his bare back. He had his shirt in his hands, poking his fingers through a decent-sized hole in the shoulder blade area of the cloth. He played with the fabric while contemplating the working of this team he was stuck in. Everyone dislikes him for his attitude, which is fine, but Cliff decides to stick his nose where it doesn't belong and try to mine through the walls of ice. Cliff tells Fayt and Fayt works himself up over menial things. 

Tossing the torn shirt over the side of the bed, Albel sighed and stared at the ceiling. _Why can't that idiot Fayt be like the others and hate me? My attitude clearly indicates I don't want any friends; I don't want to get close to someone and have them die on me just like my father did…_

* * *

Fayt looked troubled. He just played with his food the entire time, dicing everything with his fork until it turned to mush. The bluenette was usually optimistic and upbeat; no one had seen him like this before. 

"What's bothering you, Fayt?" Nel asked, kindness laced in her voice.

"It's… nothing," Fayt said, forcing a smile. "It's just a simple thing. I won't let it get to me."

"Don't hesitate to tell us anything. If you bottle it up, you'll only make it worse." Nel stood to punctuate her sentence, and gathered up her dishes to place in the sink.

As soon as Nel left, Cliff decided to give some friendly advice. "Don't work yourself up over that stubborn bastard, Fayt. He doesn't deserve your kindness. If he wants to starve himself, let him. But don't let that cocky sonofabitch cause you to lose your cool. It _ain't _cool."

"Yeah. You're right." Fayt said, and began to scoop up the cold mush that became his food.

Cliff sat back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head. "So, Nel, what's the game plan now? We're still headin' down to the Seiryl River, right? What're we goin' there for again?"

Nel finished cleaning her dishes and placed them neatly in a stack in the designated cupboards. She walked back into the dining room and stood in the doorway, her weight shifted to one foot and her hand on her hip. "Her Majesty asked us to search underwater for the fallen temple of the Tesrics, an ancient line of mages who learned runology spells that you can't even begin to imagine."

"And why do we need to go to visit some crackpot mage temple?"

Nel glared at him before continuing with a more formal tone of voice. "If the skills and spells of the Tesrics are uncovered, then inscribing runes into our skin would be obsolete and more people could become runologists. And those who are runologists would only become more powerful. Tit is a safety measure in case one of the three major powers of this world decides to threaten Aquaria."

"Wait a minute… If that's why we're goin' to this temple, then why'd Albel decide to come?" Cliff was clearly perplexed by Nel's explanation.

"Albel, being a Glyphian and thus knowing all rituals pertaining to dragons, is needed to tame the spirit dragon that guards the entrance to the temple. The taming of the spirit dragon requires an immensely powerful individual with extensive knowledge and experience with dragons, and the said warrior must also be strong at heart. That's where we run into problems. Albel has more than met the first two requirements, but he's cold and stubborn and therefore cannot fulfill the third." Nel crossed her arms and watched Cliff, expecting more questions.

"How're we supposed to get Albel to be 'strong at heart'? I think we'd be better off finding another guy for the job." Cliff winced at the memory of how Albel jumped down his throat for asking the man to loosen up.

Fayt set down his fork with a _clink _and interjected another question before Nel could continue. "What I want to know is how did you convince Albel to come without telling him it's for the sake of Aquaria? He'd never agree to something like that."

Nel closed her eyes and thought for a moment before continuing to explain what she could. "How we can encourage Albel to open up and become less oppressive, I do not know. However, there are only three main officers to the Glyphian army, and only those three are far above the rest of the army in terms of strength, tactics, and other matters. However, Vox is dead and Woltar is too elderly to fight so that leaves Albel as our only option. As for your question, Fayt, Albel's king volunteered to send him along with us, but he has a different mission: to acquire the necklace of Aerive. Why the king wants the necklace is unclear to me, but at least he inadvertently gave us passage into the temple."

"Great, so we're stuck with that whining, antisocial bitch until we get into the castle. After the whole mission, can I drown him in the river?" A bit of a mischievous smile crossed Cliff's face, and he stood behind his chair with a hand gripped tightly around one of the vertical pieces.

Fayt looked a bit shocked at what Cliff had said, but he was getting used to the tall man's constant cracks and bashings directed toward the solitary two-tone. "Cliff, please don't try to drown him. I think he'd tear your hand off before you even tried…" Fayt yawned, a sudden tiredness overwhelming him. "It's kinda late. I'm going to bed, you two." With that, he stood and ascended the stairs to his room in the mansion of Arias.

"G'night, Fayt." Cliff called. Nel did the same. "Do you s'pose that kid worries a bit _too _much about that plague upstairs?"

"Too much for his own good? Yes. Too much so he seems unlike himself? No." Nel knew what Cliff was getting at, and she knew Fayt would never fall for a cretin like Albel Nox. He didn't earn the title 'the Wicked One' for nothing.

* * *

Cliff was almost to his bedroom when the door just in front of him opened and an irritated Albel slammed into him without even looking. "Hey, watch it!" 

"Watch where you're going, maggot…" Albel growled, staring daggers into Cliff.

"_You _were the one who bumped into _me_." Cliff responded, wondering where in hell Albel got the impression it was the other way around.

"If you weren't such a steroid-popping oaf then maybe this wouldn't have happened!"

"Alright, _now _you're takin' it too far…" Cliff slammed his fist into a cupped hand as a warning.

"You take up the whole fucking hallway, you overgrown ox!"

Albel's insults finally cut his last nerves. Every damn day he had to take this from that cold-hearted asshole and he finally went over the deep end about it. He lost control of himself and the moment he regained his senses, he was standing over Albel who was half-leaning, half-sitting against the wall with a hand over his mouth and his chin, neck, and chest covered in blood.

Albel looked up at the man who attacked him so suddenly and ruthlessly, not a trace of fear in his eyes. In fact, he was silently hoping that bastard would hit him again. Pain is weakness leaving the body. No pain, no gain. But instead, Cliff only bowed and shook his head, walking slowly to his room and closing the door with a quiet _click_.

* * *

Albel traced the split on his lower lip as he silently contemplated the recent events. Cliff physically assaulted him over a simple argument consisting of a simple run-in resulting from his not watching where his was going. But he'd be damned if he would even think of admitting to that oaf that he was wrong. Then that blonde freak would think he was right, that he was better than Albel the Wicked. Maybe even that the said reputed man was even _under _him, and Albel couldn't have that. So day-to-day, he always runs into arguments, and he has to win those arguments or the others would start to look at _him _as a maggot. But this was all beside the point… 

Cliff hit him over a simple matter of slamming into him. Well, simple things for simple minds. Simple bastard. Or perhaps he strained Cliff's nerves far too much… But how could he not? If he didn't scorn the blonde every day and actually faced him with indifference, then he might actually think of the man as a _friend._ And becoming close to someone was not something he wanted to repeat. So he reprimanded them, all of them. But the condescending glares and 'maggots' and looks of disgust were all a mask… but they didn't know that, nor will they.

Albel felt his throat tighten during his contemplations for a reason he couldn't conceive. He stripped off the evening glove on his right hand and turned it palm upward. The pale-as-ash underside of his arm was marred from previous cuts and scars, some scabbed over and some still half-healed. He could see the blue veins stand out clearly from the mixture of white and red, even the larger ones leading up his arm and through the bend. But he didn't wish to commit suicide… He held the razorblade talons of his left arm to the skin and tore them across, in one swift and painful motion. Albel winced at the pain, but it erased his mind of all thoughts of loneliness and depression, and as he watched the blood seep from the four wounds it seemed to him like that was the tangible form of his misery. He let it bleed for a while longer before sneaking off to the bathroom and retrieving bandages and the like to prevent infection. Not that he'd mind an infection, but he was too weak to sustain one and not suffer noticeably.

_Pain is weakness leaving the body, _he thought bitterly to himself. _But why do I only feel weaker?_

* * *

YES(Yes, that's my penname abbreviated, sadly): Ok guys, there it is. Hope it didn't suck too badly. I have a problem, though! I need someone to help poor Albel out, but I can't think of who! Argh! Any suggestions would be wonderful. 


	2. Descent of the Angel of Death

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Author**: Your Euthanized Sleep  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Ocean (as much as I wish I did) and I don't own any characters mentioned in this chapter, but I do own the names of the mountains and the town!  
**Summary**: A fanfic that was born from a suspicion behind the constant presence of some sort of covering over Albel's forearms.  
**Warning**: Contains mild swearing. That's it, I know… sniff sniff

* * *

Albel awoke to the blinding beams of the sun in his eyes. He closed them immediately, then pulled the blanket over his head and groaned in irritation.

"Took ya long enough." Cliff was standing in front of the window, his hands pressed against the sides, pinning the curtains to each frame piece. He looked over at his tired companion and smirked. "What, the sun gonna turn you to ash? C'mon, we're ready to leave and we're waitin' on you. The others ain't too happy about it."

Albel sat up with his back to the window. Did he oversleep? That was odd… usually he never slept at all. But that blonde-haired bastard opened those curtains and not only woke him up, but gave him a headache. He was rambling right now and the only words he could catch were 'waiting', 'sun', and 'ash'. "Get out." Was all he could mumble.

"Good mornin' to you, too…" Cliff said in a sarcastic tone of voice before strolling out of the brightened room.

Albel slid out from under the sheets and promptly shut the damnable curtains. So he overslept… perhaps he shouldn't have cut so deep last night. It will affect his performance in battle almost inevitably, but he didn't think it would be so great that the others noticed. He dressed in dark-dye jeans and a black, tight-fitted tank top with a complex dragon design on the back. He slipped on his shoes and a pair of evening gloves to match his shirt while thinking about the path they were to take today. The Seiryl River… if he wasn't mistaken, that was skirting the heart of Greeton, and the technological superpower would not be forgiving should he let his temper off the leash and go on a killing spree. That would be the end of Airyglyph, and no doubt Aquaria too, as they are both aligned.

Albel took up his sword and threaded the sheath through the chain belt, then tested it to see if it was secure. Since they were venturing from Peterny, they would need to take the east gate and cross through the Kyrek Mountains to reach the next town, which would be… he couldn't think of the name right now. However, they would spend all day hiking up and down the steep mountains, which was not something Albel Nox would do without complaining. His leg muscles weren't exactly well-developed, so if he _did _make it through the mountains without breaking both his legs, then he would wake up the next day with legs like water. And there's not even a short cut…

* * *

"It's been good doing business with you!" The old merchant replied heartily, counting the pile of change sitting before him. He grinned up at the three travelers in his shop, watching them as they counted out the few fol they had left. They exited the musty bungalow soon after, grumbling about funds for a long journey.

"This is a rip-off…" Cliff growled, mentally totaling up the cost for each individual item.

"There's not much we can do about it." Nel replied, crossing her arms and sighing. "Are you two up for a hike?"

"A hike's nothin' I can't handle," Cliff replied, stretching his arms and legs at the thought of a nice hike up a cool mountain with plenty of shade along the way and a light breeze to ruffle his hair.

"The terrain in Greeton is mostly mountains and lakes. If we're not hiking, then we're swimming, so to speak. And since Airyglyph wasn't too enthusiastic about collaborating with us this time around, we cannot travel by any other means."

"So you're saying we'll be traveling all day by foot in mountainous terrain?" Fayt questioned.

"That's correct." Nel glanced over at Cliff and saw the dreamy look on his face. "It won't be a walk in the park, Cliff. These mountains are steep, the percent grade is very high. If you were to slip, it would be costly."

Cliff and Fayt sighed in unison, and the owner of the red eyes who were watching them spoke up.

"Quit complaining, fools. Do you think that's really going to change anything?"  
Fayt tried to reason with him. "No, but-"

"But nothing, idiot. Bitching about the road ahead isn't going to get you an air dragon to ride on, nor will it accomplish the mission any faster so I can be rid of your worthless presence." Albel retorted, stepping out from the shade of the redwood trees. "Just shut up and deal with it, and save us all a headache."

"Now hold on a second… You tell us to quit complaining, but _you're _the one who's complaining about our complaining. Doesn't that seem a little hypocritical or is it just me?"

Albel smirked at the blonde one. "I couldn't get past the repetition in your sentence… Could you say that again, maggot?" He asked, resting his left hand on the hilt of his sword and cocking his head in mock curiosity.

"Why, you-" Cliff glared at the lanky man and raised his fists in anticipation of a fight. Fayt and Nel quickly restrained the Klausian while simultaneously glaring at the smirking provoker.

"Cliff, calm down! This is Albel you're talking about. Being hypocritical is just one of his idiosyncrasies." Fayt slowly eased his grip on Cliff's muscular arm, as he sensed the blonde's cool demeanor coming back to him.

Albel glared at the blue-haired one. "What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned with a menacing undertone. He stalked off toward the gate to Greeton, completely cutting off any attempt at a reply.

Nel sighed, clearly tired of all the arguments between Cliff and Albel. "About our mission… today we shall leave at sunset, we'll spend the day today in preparation of the long road ahead. If we were to hike during the day, the heat would surely take its toll on us, and there are few trees along the mountains themselves. The soil proves to be too barren for that. The downside to leaving at night it the low visibility, so be careful and bring one of your _flash lights _to assist you."

As they first set foot outside of the eastern gate of Peterny, they witnessed a breathtaking sight. The sun had just set in the west and the mountainside glowed with beautiful golds and rustic tones, the earthy tones complementing the autumn trees whose gorgeous warm colours painted a radiant picture of which no artist could capture. They walked down the long-untouched mountain path, which was framed by lush green underbrush along with many different types of trees, some documented and some not. After about a mile of level dirt path, the percent grade began to climb and the quartet found themselves walking sideways to avoid rolling down the mountain.

* * *

"This is ludicrous…" Albel declared, after stepping on a piece of a ledge that quickly crumbled under his weight. He slipped again and regained himself just in time, escaping a rough trip (pun intended) down the mountain. "It's too steep both ways. The sides of the mountain are practically vertical! You people are more insane than _I'm _claimed to be if you think we're escaping this place without missing a few _limbs_…"

"I told ya he'd be complainin' nonstop after a few hours…" Cliff straightened up as he reached the bottom of the mountain, then hollered an offering to Nel to catch her if she fell, and that was instantly declined. "So Fayt, ready to pay up on that bet, now?"

Fayt caught hold of another outcropping on the side of the cliff just before the one he trusted a quarter of his weight to fell away. He looked down below to Cliff and noticed he was still at a dizzying height compared to his destination. He quickly shifted his line of sight to the amount of distance he had already covered, trying to take his mind off the fear of slipping and falling to his death. He let out a shaky breath and took a moment to regain himself before addressing his companion. "Please quit kidding around, Cliff. I'm trying to concentrate."

Nel began to search for another foothold and instead her foot hit solid ground.. She glanced down to see she had reached the bottom and breathed a sigh of relief. She stepped away from the steep side of the mountain and leaned against a large boulder a few feet away. She hollered up to Fayt and Albel. "Hurry up, you two! We have to reach Kanton before the visibility becomes too low."

"And what a great idea _that _was!" The two-tone replied sarcastically. "I'd rather die of a heat stroke than wander around in the dark and plummet to my death!" So Albel the Wicked was afraid of heights. _Deathly _afraid of heights. He glanced over the edge of the cliff and saw Fayt not very far down, then at the bottom he spotted a red speck and a blonde speck that he supposed were Nel and Cliff. He immediately backed away from the edge, fearing for his life. However, a quick survey of the immediate area told him that there was no other way but to climb down. He even dressed in the black tank top and pants in anticipation of that, but massive cliffs seemed a lot less scary in an inn room than they did when you were staring down into the dark pit that was your destination… Nevertheless, he began to slowly and cautiously scale his way down the mountain, trying his hardest to concentrate on hiking his way down rather than the somewhat endless fall that would mean the end of him.

Fayt had just touched solid ground again and Albel was about halfway down before Cliff's patience ran thin. "Hey Nel, Pigtails up there is sure talking his time… Why don't we leave a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow and we'll make our way to Kanton at our own pace?"

Nel sighed and shook her head. This was certainly the Cliff she knew and remembered… "No, Cliff… As much as you'd like to be rid of him, we can't just leave behind a member of the party. If we have to stay the night in the mountains, then we will. We have more than enough supplies for that. And besides, being separated on the mountains spells trouble. If one of us gets hurt, then there will be no one to help. If you wish, you and Fayt can continue to the next town and I'll keep an eye on him."

"I think I'll pass. I can't miss a chance to watch him fall down a mountain."

Albel was searching for another foothold when the one beneath his right foot broke away and he was left clinging to the outcroppings for dear life. He cursed aloud as his right hand slipped due to reduced grip from the incident that occurred last night, and the rock beneath his claw crumbled. He quickly dug his claw into the mountainside and searched frantically for another notch he could hold onto, but both efforts were to no avail. As he scratched and clawed to stop his fall, the distance between him and the ground rapidly declined. He thought for a split second that he had finally caught hold of a crevice as his claw caught hold of it, but that was just before a bolt of excruciating pain shot up his right leg. He heard a sickening cracking sound before he collapsed to the ground, the continual pulsing of sharp pain causing him to cry out in agony.

Nel, being the only one with extensive medical knowledge and runological healing capabilities, rushed to where Albel had collapsed. She quickly assessed him to determine how badly he was injured, then set to healing him as best she could. A faint blue light emanated from her hands as she cast a healing spell to negate the pain. "We need to get you to a doctor… I haven't the runological ability to heal your leg." Nel said, pulling her hands away from his leg.

The pain lessened to a constant, not-quite-sharp ache but it still made Albel wince. "But how the hell are we going to get through the mountains _now_? We're not even halfway there, are we?"

Fayt approached the two sitting at the base of the mountainside after scouting out the area. "Good news. I can see the town from that hill over there. It's not that far at all, so we'll be able to make it there before midnight, and there aren't even any steep climbs or anything- Albel, what happened?" Fayt asked urgently, seeing the odd angle in which his leg was bent.

"I fell down the damn mountain, dumbass…"

"Cliff, could you carry Albel the rest of the way?" Fayt asked, concerned that his comrade might further damage his leg if he didn't have anyone to help.

"There's no way in hell I'm letting that clumsy troll carry me! I'd rather drag myself there!" Albel exclaimed, irked that Fayt would even _consider _having that overgrown maggot haul him around.

"Be my guest." Cliff responded and shrugged, then set off in the direction that Fayt had pointed. "C'mon guys, no use trying to convince that guy to choose the more convenient way to go. He's always gotta be the stubborn one…"

Fayt, after a moment of glancing back and forth and debating which way to go, chose to follow Cliff. _Nel has it under control, _he thought to himself._ Besides_, _there's nothing I could do even if I stayed back there to help Albel. I'm more useful going with Cliff and arranging a stay in the village. Nel said that we didn't have any visits prearranged so we could take as much time as we want or jump ahead of schedule, and Cliff doesn't have the most formal of speech skills, so I'd be better off with him._

Nel turned around from following the other two and returned to where Albel was leaning against the cliff. "You'll never swallow your pride, will you?" She asked with an exasperated tone in her voice, then took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders and proceeded to help him walk the rest of the way to the village.

* * *

"So you plan to stay with us for tonight and immediately set off on your journey in the morning?" The village elder asked as she absent-mindedly curled a piece of tan thread around her finger.

"Yes ma'am, that is what we intend to do. Will we be of any trouble to you or your people?" Fayt asked, more out of courtesy rather than genuine concern.

"No, it's no problem at all. Our little town is quite prosperous, as our peddlers and merchants travel through the mountains in half a day and return the next with a surplus of funds. I think you will find that because of this, our town has acquired a great beauty due to expensive architecture. In fact, that style of architecture has dated back to-"  
"Ma'am, I apologize for cutting you off, but do you have a local doctor? One of my companions broke his leg during the hike over here."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry… I just got a little carried away. There is a doctor across the street, there." She said, pointing to the hut adjacent to the one they were in. "He knows how to heal anything in twenty-four hours. Why, I remember when my son broke his ank-"

"Thank you very much, ma'am." Fayt said hurriedly and bowed to mark his departure. _That woman would've talked us to death if I hadn't cut her off… I hope that the rest of the village isn't the same way._

* * *

So there's chapter two… I must say, I'm not completely satisfied with it… It will be edited before I post chapter three. Not much about Albel's psyche in this one, but he's- wait, I shouldn't spoil anything. Heh…


	3. Reminisce of a Past Long Since Forgotten

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Author**: Your Euthanized Sleep  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Ocean (as much as I wish I did) and I don't own any characters mentioned in this chapter (except for the surgeon, kinda, and the villagers and the other town), but I do own that dragon, dammit! But you can borrow him with my permission.  
**Summary**: A fanfic that was born from a suspicion behind the constant presence of some sort of covering over Albel's forearms.  
**Warning**: Contains mild swearing and some violent flashbacks. Whee.  
**Comments**: I love you reviewers! You make me feel so good about myself, and more reviews make me think I owe it to you to keep this going instead of sitting on my lazy ass playing Diablo II. Thanks Ruine, CondenniumRed, Yuka-san, and 'The Obsessive One'!

* * *

The expansive white room was hardly personalized. It was mostly covered with an array of certificates and diplomas and the like, more or less to comfort patients, and perhaps a few oddball possessions set on desks or tables where there was a square centimeter of unused space. There were many beds in this room, most of them unused, and the unnatural fluorescent light gave the impression of a morgue. Or maybe it was the air-conditioning. 

The resident doctor swept through the doorway of the room at a purposeful stride, routinely checking up on patients and assessing their injuries. She stopped after checking about half of the patients and withdrew a hair tie out of her pocket to pull her light-blonde dishwater hair into a ponytail. Adjusting her small-frame glasses, she approached Albel's bedside and smiled. "Good morning." She said somewhat warmly.

Albel glared at her. "When will I be out of this bleached hellhole?"

"Well…" She began to answer before pausing in thought. "I'd say about two weeks."

"Two weeks!" He exploded. "You can't be serious! There's no fucking way I'll sit here and _rot _for two weeks! I'm getting out of here even if I have to _drag _myself to the river and back!"

She chuckled, and that infuriated him all the more. "Calm down, I was just kidding. The doctor and I are famous for our skill with healing any sort of injury in twenty-four hours, so that should answer your question. Your friends implied that it is imperative that you heal as soon as possible so you can continue to your destination."

"You better hope I'm fully healed by tomorrow," he hissed. "For _your _sake."

* * *

"So do you think he's tried to kill the doctor yet?" Cliff asked over a cup of coffee. My, was it good to have some caffeine in the morning… 

"More than likely." Nel answered, swirling her tea around in a spoon. "I wouldn't put it past him. At least he has the determination to get up and complete his mission as soon as he can. Although if he tries something stupid before he's allowed to leave, that determination may hurt us more than it'll help us."

"Yep. I bet they'll have him down for about two minutes before he goes crazy in there."

"I'm guessing two hours." Nel looked up from her almost-empty teacup to see Fayt standing in the doorway. "You're back already. We didn't expect you back here for at least another hour. So did you find out anything interesting?"

"Not really…" Fayt replied, pulling up an old wooden chair and seating himself. He sighed; walking for hours made his legs sore. "All the townspeople seem pretty secretive. They'd only tell me just enough to answer my questions and no more. Most of them didn't even know the Seiryl River existed; they thought it was just a myth. The only person I came across that could tell me anything substantial was the retired runologists that lives on the outskirts of town."

"And what did he have to say?" Nel asked, pouring Fayt a cup of coffee and passing it to him.

He received it graciously and took a long sip before continuing. "He said that it was guarded by the spirit dragon Hala, just like you said, and that only a warrior 'strong of heart and skilled with dragonkind' can pass the dragon's test. He also said that no one has ever been able to set foot in the temple for two thousand years."

Cliff grimaced. "That's a little depressing… And we're pinnin' our hopes on a guy who calls us 'maggots' and 'worms'?"

"I'm afraid so… However, he _did _pass the test of the sword of the Crimson Scourge, which required a warrior of strong heart." Nel said pointedly.

"So what happens if we lose against the critter?"

Fayt was quiet for a moment. "He said the best outcome is we're burned to death. The worst… eternal life and suffering, with no possibility of redemption."_

* * *

The majestic dragon stood tall and its wings were folded neatly on its back. The scales on the thin dragon were sleek and black, moving in sequence like waves in a dark ocean. The creature approached him with astounding grace and ease, each movement flowing into the other. He couldn't imagine anyone who would scorn such beauty._

_The dragon spoke, its voice calm yet raspy. "You seek a bond with me, warrior, do you not?"_

_He felt a sudden surge of anxiety in him and he clenched his hands at his sides to still the shaking. He nodded once, then continued to look the dragon in the eye._

"_You are aware of the trials that await you, are you not?" It asked, stopping a good twenty feet from the frail-looking warrior._

_He nodded once again. He swallowed to lessen the tightening in his throat. His father stood behind him, waiting in hopes of his one and only son to pass the Accession of the Flame and take his place as the captain of the Dragon Brigade, so he couldn't screw this up. However, his instincts told him that was inevitable._

"_Very well. I am Reiziel, remember my name well, mortal. Now show me your skill and I shall deem you accordingly." The dragon spread its velvet black wings, the light filtering in through various cracks catching the translucent violet underside. It lifted itself from the ground in one mighty flap, and continued to rise until its long, snake-like tail no longer touched the gravel below. "Fight me, son of Glou Nox, and show your worth!" it hissed, flecks of acid spraying from it long fangs._

_Albel drew his katana, the familiar extension of himself easing his nerves. He charged the dragon head-on, then skid and swung his sword in an upward slash, unleashing vertical shockwaves as sharp as razorblades straight toward his foe. It nicked the dragon's left wing and it dove straight for him, but Albel stood his ground. As soon as the dragon's gaping mouth was in arm's reach, he thrust his sword into the dragon's mouth and caught its right cheek. However, the dragon didn't stop and cry out as he thought it would. It continued its attack and slit open Albel's shoulder, leaving a deep gash that only deepened from the acid on its teeth. He screamed, the agony caused by the burning acid temporarily paralyzing him. He regained himself and switched his sword to his left hand, once again going after the great beast. Reiziel dove toward his foe once again, catching Albel in his claws and slamming him into the searing rock wall. _

_Reiziel peeled him from the wall and tossed him to the ground, roaring in triumph. "I expected much more of a challenge, mortal. But it is not your fighting skill alone that dictates whether or not you deserve a pact with one of our kind. You must trust the one that you fight and display the emotion you feel toward it. It is that display of trust and emotion that will win one of us over."_

_Albel pulled himself up to a sitting position, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the explosion of agonizing pain in his right shoulder. He looked into the royal blue eyes of the dragon one last time only to hear his death sentence: "You fail to show me your feelings, fail to impress me, and fail to trust me, mortal. You do not deserve to live."_

_He knew he was doomed. He knew he was doomed the moment he walked into this cave, but he knew that after entering it, he couldn't back out. This was the end for him… he failed the dragon, failed the king, failed himself, and worst of all… he failed his father. He was jerked back to reality by his father's frantic command for him to run, to flee from this place, and he watched in horror as his father stood in front of him to protect him from the dragon's fiery blast._

"_No!" He screamed, reaching out to his father with his left hand and catching some of the blaze which charred his forearm black. It was his father's dying wish, so he ran. He looked back one last time before exiting the cave to watch his father's figure dissipate in the dragon's fire. Turning to look ahead, he slammed into something smooth and scaly. He looked up to see another dragon standing before him. He gaped in horror as it sucked in a great breath of air and its mouth lit up in an orange glow. He let out a blood-curdling shriek as he felt white-hot flame vaporize his flesh and-_

Albel screamed and shot bolt upright. His breathing was rapid, and he had apparently broken out in a cold sweat during his nightmare. He slowly laid back down and sighed, wondering why in hell his father would save worthless trash like himself… For eight years he tried to measure up to the one man he idolized, and for eight years he failed miserably. He was scum just like the rest of the people on this planet, yet he kept going under the false hope that perhaps someday he would become a great warrior. But that was all a white lie… he was condemned to being Albel the Wicked, the frightening demon that haunted the battlefields and cut down each foe in his line of sight. He had become a demon even to his own men, because of the worthless cowards who tried to back out of a fight. He beheaded the flighty soldiers as a chilling warning to all those who considered demonstrating the action as well. He _was _just a demon, just a monster that plagued people's nightmares and ended the lives of many. He was only population control, he had no feelings and he wasn't human. This was the Albel that everyone knew. This was the only Albel everyone _could _know.

Footsteps echoing through the expansive room shook him from his self-realizations. He scanned the area with his crimson eyes and his gaze centered on the doctor that had previously taunted him by taking him so lightly. "What do you want, maggot?" He asked, not feeling up to conversation.

"I heard you scream, so I came in here thinking you had the audacity to try and leave." She dragged a stool over to his bedside and sat down, filling out the papers on her clipboard with practiced ease. "Mind telling me what happened?"

"That's none of your concern, wench. Leave me alone."

"You had a nightmare, didn't you?" She asked, looking up from the paperwork and setting her pen down.

"No I didn't, fool… Nightmares are for cowardly children."

"They're also for guilt-tripping young men. Don't worry; I won't tell anyone."

He glared at the woman, then raised his right hand to his temple to massage away a sudden headache. He realized his gloves were gone, and quickly dropped his hand to his side.

The surgeon finished her paperwork and carelessly tossed the clipboard onto the bedside table. "You shouldn't do that to yourself. Whether you believe it or not, there are people out there who care about you and it's okay to tell them something's wrong. Everyone has two ears and one mouth, so I think they'll listen."

"People are worthless maggots, they're pathetic sacks of flesh that wander this earth and everything they touch is cursed with decadence! They plague this world and they plague each other, so there's nothing I could get out of this race of ignorant fools… I'd be better off keeping everything inside. At least that way I know no one can stab me in the back…"

"You're forgetting that you're human too. And I think you're undermining the human race. Although there are a lot of bad people around, there are a few good ones back there. Keeping things inside will only make them worse, and I can tell that all of your friends care about you, even if they hide it or you refuse to see that."

Albel sighed and became silent. Whether it was because he couldn't find a clever response or he just didn't feel like talking, he didn't know. Although the woman's demeanor sparked his temper, he couldn't help but feel safe and at ease when she was around. Her words seemed compelling and contrary to his usual self; he badly didn't want to disappoint her. She reminded him of someone he had lost long ago, someone he never really knew…

"Oh, and by the way, I'm Doctor Mesalle, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Nox." She stood and gathered up the papers that flew off of her clipboard and exited the room to spill the papers onto the front desk.

What a weird woman.

* * *

The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the golds and pinks were still evident in the west when it was time for the trio to head back to the doctor's office. Nel approached the front desk and gently rapped on the cold marble to alert the somewhat grumpy secretary to their presence. "We're here to pick up a patient by the name of Albel Nox." She stated, decided to make this as quick and painless as possible. 

"Nox… Nox…" The secretary repeated to herself as she hunted through countless files piled on her desk until she finally came across the one she was looking for. "Here it is…" She said aloud, more to herself than to the redhead waiting at the desk. She opened the manila folder and flipped through the contents. "Yes… He's due to leave in about ten minutes."

"Can't we take him out now?" Nel asked, curious that ten minutes would be so crucial to his recovery.

"Of course not." The secretary replied curtly, giving Nel a 'what are you, stupid?' look. "The serum we work with to cut healing time to one day is very sensitive. It would normally take a young man a month to completely heal from a broken leg, so if he decided to sit up and venture around for a couple hours, that would be like spending two-and-a-half days on a broken leg. It might heal the wrong way, then it would need to be broken again. Understand?"

"Yes, I see." Nel replied, eager to return to her seat in the waiting room and never have to deal with this woman for the rest of her life. Sure enough, her wish was granted ten minutes later when the blonde-haired surgeon entered the room with Albel following behind.

The surgeon greeted them with a warm smile as she read off a synopsis of Albel's condition. "He's perfectly fine now, but my only warning is to keep him off the cliffs, okay? And you paid up front, so… you're free to go."

"Thank you," Fayt said as he and the others stood, ready to leave the town. "but could I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

"Is there an easier way to get to the town of Orish? We'd prefer to avoid any more treacherous cliffs if we can."

"Yes, actually, there is. Follow me and I'll point you in the right direction." She ushered them outside and she pointed northeast to a path in between two massive, snow-capped mountains. "If you head down that path and stay toward the right, you might be able to spot a cave. It's concealed by a lot of trees and underbrush, but it more than makes up for the tedious search by granting you safe passage to Orish."

"Thank you very much," Fayt said and bowed. "We're in your debt."

"It's all in a day's work." She replied, waving at them as they departed for the secret cave.

Albel stood for a while before following the others. It seemed like a busy day though he was bed-ridden the entire day. Thoughts were swimming around in his head and he wanted nothing more than to stab himself in the arm once more and erase his mind of all but the thought of pain, but for some reason he didn't want to disappoint the surgeon. He stopped a ways away from the building and turned to watch Mesalle disappear back into the building. "Mother?" He asked aloud, then shook his head and ran to catch up with the others.

I liked that chapter a lot more than the last one. It's only a little bit longer than the other two… Please review, my loyal reviewers, and I'll update sooner and forsake Diablo II!


	4. The Dreamless are the Realists

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Author: **The Fetid Conceited

**Disclaimer: **I don't own shit about Star Ocean except for what I write.

**Pairing: **I'm not even sure myself.

**Warinings: **Sex. Boys makin' out. Swearing.

X-X

Dusk's last light shone through the emerald leaves of the grove. It was soon silenced as gloomy storm clouds moved in, casting a shadow over the beautiful, secretive sanctuary. A light rain cascaded upon the treetops, refreshing the scene and morphing the painting-like scene into a nocturne. Cliff would've been perfectly at peace were it not for an easily-overlooked sound that only Klausian ears could pick up: the sound of sorrow. There was someone buried within the labyrinth of elegant trees that felt the sight was not that of heaven, obviously. His conscience nagged at him to find that individual and console him, if at all possible. Dashing through the damp trees and leaving fresh footsteps on the lush grass to provide a map for himself, Cliff searched. On and on the endless paths went, with nothing but another clearing or another hill at every turn. The blonde considered calling off the fruitless search until he meandered into a clearing with a lake. Endless droplets of water broke the surface of the lake, providing it with rippling grace. The clear water reflected the turbulent sky, each cloud and lining mirrored flawlessly. However, the beauty of the lake was not what shocked him. There was a figure sitting at the opposite bank.

The Klausian approached with caution as he neared the one he sought. The curvaceous figure was indicative of a woman, though most of her features were covered up with long jet-black hair that lightened at the ends. A pile of ribbon could be seen beside her, presumably used to restrain the leagues of hair. The figure was dressed in a very deep purple, almost black, which caused her to appear pallid, almost ghostly. "Hey, are you all right?" Cliff asked, reaching out a hand and gently shaking the woman.

"Leave me the hell alone, you overgrown ox…" came a caustic reply.

Cliff pulled his hand away in recoil of the retort. "Jeez, you don't need to be so grouchy about it."

"I said leave me the hell alone. Now do it before I snap your ass in half."

" I jus' wanted to see if you were okay-"

"Goddammit, you fucking dumbass!" The soaked figure twisted around to glare at cliff with treacherous crimson eyes. Two-toned hair framed impeccable features; a sight Cliff would be in awe of had it not been for the atrocious personality he was faced with. "For the last time, leave me the fuck alone!"

"Albel?" Cliff replied incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

The younger man strained to tone down his yelling to a stern tone. "Leave or I'll run you through."

"Damn, you've never been so unhappy to see me. Well…" Cliff paused. He was normally a sharp person, but somehow that small detail seemed to slip by him. Not only were Albel's irises red, his sclera were red too. _He _was the one who was crying. "What's on your mind?" he asked, easing himself down next to his wrathful comrade.

Albel paused for a moment. "Cliff?"

"Yeah?" Maybe the Twisted One will actually open up to him.

"…Go die."

"Thanks, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not plannin' on it. Not yet, anyways. Now are you gonna answer me or are you gonna keep glaring until you burn a hole in my forehead?"

"You wouldn't know. You shouldn't even care."

"And what makes you say that?" Cliff absentmindedly fiddled with a clump of grass beside him as he awaited Albel's reply.

"Because you'd have to be a masochist to care about someone who's been so vicious to you."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. You don't have to be a masochist to care about someone."

"You'd _have _to be to care about the Twisted One."

"Quit referrin' to yourself in third person. It's creepy. Look: believe it or not, everyone in the group cares about each other. Even you, though it's pretty grudgingly in Nel's book. If you hate it, that's too bad. But you might as well tell me what's up because you know I'm not gonna relent."

Albel's eyes quickly gained a forlorn appearance, his gaze shifting to the rippling surface of the water. "I wish I could say, but… I have a reputation to uphold."

Cliff scooted a bit closer and clapped a reassuring hand on the captain's shoulder. "It's just the two of us, okay? No one will know but me."

Albel retracted his legs from the water and crossed them after drawing them close to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. It was visible evidence of Albel's withdrawal further into himself. "At what point does self-loathing become self-destruction?"

The question took the blonde by surprise. "Huh? I don't think I follow."

The Black Captain shook his head, observing a posture of utter defeat. "Nevermind. It was stupid of me to ask you." The lithe man rose slowly and gracefully, and turned to venture off into the darkened areas of the grove.

Cliff went after the younger man, concerned about his uncharacteristically listless gait and depressed mood. He easily caught up to the other man as he made no effort to retreat from the blonde, and Cliff grabbed his arm to halt him. Albel reluctantly stopped, yet remained adamant in his decision to hide his face from the older man. "Seriously, what's botherin' you?"

"It's nothing. …It doesn't matter." Still, he refused to face the concerned Klausian.

The blonde spun the two-tone around to face him. "Albel, for chrissake, you-" he paused to regard Albel's broken countenance. He had never seen the hardass without a scowl before, and it took him completely by surprise. Without a glare to contort his features, Albel looked absolutely magnificent. His vermilion eyes glowed with vitality, a perfect contrast to his pale skin. His brunette hair dipped in gold was soaked and plastered against his face, concealing part of his ethereal expression, thus providing an air of mystery. Cliff was captivated; he couldn't draw himself away from the sight. He tentatively raised his hand and caressed Albel's cheek, reveling in its silky texture. His bold move only furthered his hypnotic state and he leaned in to kiss the deific man before him.

With Cliff's lips only an inch away from his, Albel began to question his actions. "What are you doing?" he asked, with nothing outside of a tone of curiosity.

"I… uh… well…" the blonde stammered, confused. _What _am_ I doing? Was I about to kiss Nox?_ _That'd be as disastrous as kissing a light socket, or better yet, a TV capacitor…_

The younger man withdrew his arm from Cliff's grasp, yet refrained from backing away. He stood, with the blonde's arm around the small of his back, and regarded the bewildered man before him, miffed. "I just asked you a question. I never told you to stop altogether."

Cliff shrugged before leaning in to kiss his normally moody comrade. Albel returned his affection fervently while reaching upward to place his hand on the back of Cliff's neck. The older man ran his free hand through the tousled hair of his soon-to-be lover and his tongue sought access to the Twisted One's mouth. The younger man responded eagerly, basking in the attention that the blond so willingly provided. They engaged each other passionately for a time; each surprised at the others actions albeit remaining wisely unquestioning of them. Cliff trailed gentle kisses around to the back of the Twisted one's neck, where he bit down with force. Albel gasped followed by a moan as he was paralyzed in a web of lust. The blonde slowly eased his partner onto the soft, wet grass of the grove and gazed into his vermilion depths. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"Would I let you come this far if I wasn't sure?" the younger man responded, taken with lust. He unzipped the Klausian's shirt before smoothly transitioning to the zipper on his pants. Cliff could feel himself pushing through the acceding fabric. Working quickly, he pulled the ribbon tying Albel's skirt to his waist before slipping the violet cloth off the lithe man's legs. Albel consented to what the blonde was about to do and retracted his legs to give him room. As he expected, he could feel Cliff push into him and welcomed the pain that accompanied it. Albel stifled another moan as Cliff adjusted his pace. He clawed at the skin on his arms, desperate to amplify his already euphoric state. Sensing the reason behind his lover's actions, Cliff came down harder on him. Albel clawed at his arm roughly as he reached his climax, shortly after Cliff's. After taking a moment to respire, the to dressed and laid together beneath a massive oak tree. The blonde wrapped his arms protectively around his new lover as they fell asleep together, synchronized with the lessening of the rain.

X-X

Albel had been watching Cliff with mild interest for what must've been an hour now. The behaviour of the oaf when asleep had been intriguing. After all, who _wouldn't _watch someone who called out their name with a hard-on? Albel shifted to a more comfortable position, laying on his stomach and resting his chin on his hands. He slowly kicked his feet back and forth in the air as he regarded the blonde's tossing and turning. He calmed down for a time before waking with a start.

"Damn, it was just a-" he instantly became aware of the Twisted One's watchful eye. "Albel? Why the hell were you staring at me while I was asleep?"

"You called my name, and naturally, I looked over. And I must say, you're _such _a fool." He punctuated his statement with a dark laugh.

"I'd like to see you call me that when your throat's beneath my foot… And what were you laughing about, anyway?" He faced the caustic two-tone with a stern scowl. If there was anything in the world Cliff couldn't stand, it was the host of social problems that the lanky man seemed to possess.

"Were you having wet dreams about me again, Cliff? I'm almost flattered."

The swordsman's mention of his actual name caught him off guard. "What? About _you? _Hell no. If anything, _you _were the one having wet dreams about _me_. _You're _the one prancin' around in a purple skirt, a spraypainted-on shirt, and women's stockings."

Albel smirked. His sleep deprivation from insomnia normally shortened his already explosive temper, but he saw his little verbal tussle as a way to get back at the blonde for the day he punched him. The two-tone casually rolled over on his back, extending his legs into the air and scrutinizing them. This, in effect, caused his skirt to reveal dangerous amounts of his thighs that Cliff so thoroughly enjoyed during his dream.

The older man caught himself staring and looked toward the far wall of the cavern in which they were staying. "You're a complete nutcase, you know that?"

Albel's grin only widened and he laughed once again. "_You're _the nutcase to fall for a sadist, maggot." He sat up slowly, making sure to stretch sexily in the process. He turned around to face Cliff and crawled into his lap. "What _was _your dream about, anyways? I'd like to know; you called out my name, might I remind you."

"Do you honestly think I'd- hey, get off me!" The blonde hastily pushed the swordsman off of his lap, and the younger man reacted with a look of disgust much like a cat.

"Bah, what a stiff." Albel replied before standing to leave. He walked but a few feet before he felt strong hands grip his upper arms and spin him around. "…The hell's your problem, jackass? Keep your hands _off _me…"

"And here I thought _you _were the one makin' yourself comfortable in my lap. Look, if you wanna know what my dream is about, you gotta promise to do me a few favors, like keepin' it quiet, for example." He hadn't realized until now how close his lips were to Albel's, and apparently the swordsman sensed it too.

"If you even _think _about raping me, I'll julienne your dick and feed it to the dogs," he hissed with authentic certainty. He felt Cliff's grip ease up and the taller man backed up. Albel brushed himself off with disgust and continued on his path out the door before stopping and finalizing his visit. "By the way, I lost interest in that little dream of yours. I don't want to know what kind of tortures you subjected me to. Just remember this: if you even so much as lay a finger on me, I'll castrate you with my claw." And with that, he sauntered into Nel and Fayt's end of the cavern.

"Damn, talk about prude…" Cliff scratched his head in confusion before lying back down to sleep. Feeling no hint of weariness, he stared up at the ceiling. "I'll never get that guy, even in my dreams."

X-X

_Well, I wanted to begin with a bang. That wasn't necessarily the bang I was looking for, but it will suffice. There's the satisfaction for Cliff/Albel lovers, but don't worry, there will be more fluff and stuff for the other pairings as well. I have a unique plan worked out._


	5. Rotted Lineage and Bloodstained Gloves

Drowning in the Red Sea 

**Author: **Yours truly.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SO3, but I _do _own this fic. So I _can _have Albel commit suicide if I wanted, and I'm good enough to do it _in character_. Although having the focus of my story commit suicide seems a little rash and unnecessary.

**Pairing(s): **Oh, you'll see.

**Warning(s): **Probably swear words and fight scenes… Nothing too drastic.

Nel wasn't too happy to see a "scantily-clad flagpole" (as Cliff would say) waltz into her side of the cave. In fact, she was furious. After dealing with his complaints and condemning comments all day, she needed a break. Not only that, but her distrust of the lanky Captain nagged her to stay awake. "What are you doing here, Nox?"

"Hell if I know…" Came the bored reply as he made myself comfortable by leaning against the wall. "Why are you still awake, Zelpher? You don't trust me to keep guard?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and sat up from where she had lain and stared at the ceiling of the cave for several hours. She reached under the pillow of her sleeping bag and withdrew her two Blades of Ryusen and hastily hooked them onto the back of her outfit. "No, Nox. I don't. I don't trust you as a person, and I doubt you'll be able to defend us very well as you've stood watch for the past three nights now. It'd be disastrous if you passed out in the middle of battle."

"Hmph. I won't pass out." He cut his sentence short and deprived it of an insult as a painful burning sensation suddenly flared up in his arm. He casually folded his arms as to keep Nel unaware of any 'issues' he might be having and he rubbed the half-formed scars beneath the cloth.

"Albel, your father is… dead, right?" Nel asked somewhat haphazardly, paying little attention to her speech at the moment.

"Why the hell would you be asking about my father? What's it to you?"

"Quit yelling, you'll wake Fayt. I just wanted to know because when I received these daggers from Woltar, he hinted at something along those lines." What she said was a white lie, but it might help her uncover the truth behind her recurring dream.

_Every night that she had slept for the past week had given her a dream. She dreamt she was standing in a field full of yellowed grass and few trees, somewhere just outside of Kirlsa. There was a lone headstone about twenty feet away from her and a man knelt before it. He was of medium to light build, and had tousled chestnut hair. He dressed well, he must've been a noble, for hew ore the finest black plate armor and had a velvet cape of purple, the most expensive dye. Nel's feet drew her forward and she found herself standing next to the man almost instantly. "Sir, are you okay?" she heard herself ask._

_"Yes, I'm fine." He stood and paused for a moment to regain himself. "My son died today in the Accession of the Flame."_

_"I'm sorry for prying." She responded, glancing down at the gravestone. She couldn't read it, but it didn't bother her. Not even the fact that she was in enemy territory bothered her. Perhaps it was the lulling sense of safety that comes with knowing it was a dream. Or it may even be because of that man. He had a gentle tone of voice and carried himself very highly, and though a noble, he never talked down to her. Most Glyphians would treat any woman with disrespect, but the one to whom she spoke was a man of many admirable qualities._

_"It's quite all right. I thank you for your concern. May I ask your name, I've not seen you around these parts." There was something about him that was so familiar… Was it the fine-yet-unruly hair? Or was it the sapphire blue eyes?_

_"Nel Zelpher. And you are?"_

_"Glou Nox."_

The dream usually cut off there, but she always felt warm and secure when she woke up. It didn't occur to her until a couple days after the dream surfaced that the man could be Albel's father. Of course, there were many Nox families, it wasn't an uncommon name, but there was a physical semblance between that man and Albel. She quickly disregarded it due to the fact that their personalities were quite opposite, but she decided to reassure herself and scratch Albel off the list for good. "What was his name?"

"Why is this important?" he asked, curious as to find out the motive behind her asking.

"Why do you always have to question everything I say? Can't you answer me straight for once?" Nel really was at the end of her rope, he realized.

"…His name was Glou." He vowed not to utter another thing about him in front of any of the party. It could prove as disastrous as losing those wretched pieces of paper on which he wrote since the beginning of the journey.

"Thanks." She said reluctantly, before venturing to the mouth of the cavern. She sat with her back against the wall and looked out into the starry night. Sometimes, when she was little, her father would take her outside and climb to the roof of their house just to show her the beauty of the stars. The small village in which they lived contained few torches, so there was virtually no light pollution. She remembered being taught the names and places of the constellations, and she picked each individual constellation out of the starscape, sometimes only using their juxtaposition to one another. She missed her father greatly, but she wasn't bitter about his death anymore. Woltar was a fine man, a noble man, and he had even returned the daggers her father used in battle. For that, she was glad. Her gaze gradually drifted toward the full moon, scrutinizing its mysterious protective watch over her and her comrades. The only danger that could come of this place would be Albel's virulent attitude.

Albel, on the other hand, wasn't so content to stargaze. He knew full well that no one in this group wanted him here. The only reason he was around was because they had a mission leading to the same area. For what reasons they were going, he wasn't sure, but it was obviously important enough if they were to put up with him for it. Even after all they went through in defeating the Creator, they still felt uneasy and defensive toward him. If only he wee more like his father… Albel shook his head and slid down the rock wall into a sitting position about ten feet away from the prone form of Fayt. He couldn't escape everyone's comparing him to his father, and now even _he _was doing it. The Black Captain rolled down his evening gloves to survey the damage. He sighed.

For as long as he could remember, he felt discontented with himself. He held himself to quixotic standards and underwent self-punishment every time he broke one of his rules. He could remember being about thirteen, he had five years of experience with a sword under his belt, yet he considered himself one of the weakest wielders, so he decided to set a goal for himself. He managed to succeed, but not without suffering his own wrath. Many a time had he purposefully burned his legs on the hot coals with which they cooked or slammed one of the castle's iron doors on his ankle until it broke just to condition himself to be better. Still that self-destructive nature persisted, eleven years later. It wasn't just a phase, as he had hoped. He doubted he would be rid of that innate need. He was _compelled _to inflict pain upon himself to strengthen his will. Without pain, there was no gain. However, the sight of his arms led him to question that fact.

The deep gashes in his arms were half-sealed now, but there was yellowed puss seeping out. He had a bad infection, yet there wasn't a lot he could do about it without one of his three comrades noticing. Dismissing it would prove fatal, but there was no way in hell he would let them know that the hardass was twisted beyond repair inside. He almost laughed. 'The Twisted One' had a double meaning.

Albel stood and stretched slightly before venturing out into the nocturne outside of the cave. He knew there was a lake nearby, as the monotonous drone of the waterfall served as a lullaby for the party. Sure enough, after climbing down form the slightly-elevated mountain summit, he found water nestled between a forest and the start of the mountain. He shrugged in favour of a decent bath and began to undress. After all, Nel had the rest of the group guarded and he could use the alone time. The water temperature was chilly, but not inhospitable. The young Captain took some time to adjust to the climate before untying his hair and letting it drift on the surface of the water, forming a blonde cloud. When he settled, he withdrew his arms from the refreshing numbness provided by the water to assess the situation. Most of the cuts were a pale yellow, some almost a greenish tint. He realized that was especially dangerous, but he lacked the medical supplies to do anything about it. Death by infection was not a death he considered honorable by any stretch of the imagination, ergo he would simply overcome the infection by sheer willpower, if that's what it took.

Albel suddenly became alert, and he could feel his hearing and eyesight sharpen as adrenaline kicked in. The owls stopped hooting. It was a bad sign that there was activity afoot. He knew that humans were not particularly welcome in Greeton, but the only band that would be active at the moment would be the hunting bands he remembered being briefed about before coming here.

The bands were a majority of rock folk with a few other species mixed in who would stalk and kill small groups of humans, mostly for revenge in the wars that ended long ego, around the time of the sunken city of Aquios. Their hatred had been deeply rooted by their ancestors and turned into a blind rage, and although they may not have had negative encounters with humans before, the loathing that lived on generation to generation was _bred_, not developed. Most of the hunters carried spears to utilize their impressive strength and as their hardened carapace could withstand blows from any sort of weapon during their recovery time. There was little information on the other species' weapons, however. Either way, Albel knew that a party of four humans had little to no chance of taking out the hunters, as even the humans of the wars a thousand years passed had difficulty, and they had an advantage by numbers.

Albel spent little time getting dressed and didn't bother with his hair. He wrapped the ties around his good hand as he ran as fast as he could back to where the others were lying asleep, blissfully unaware of the potentially disastrous situation at hand. As he burst through the opening, he skidded smoothly on the stone floor and half-turned to face Nel, who was shocked to see Albel run outside of battle. "There's a gang of hunter-seekers in the area. I doubt we'll go undetected, even if we hide in the back of this wretched stab wound, given their technology. If you want to live, you'll wake the other two and get the hell out of here."

"Right." She acknowledged, knowing that time is of the essence in desperate predicaments such as these. She quickly roused fate and offered him the gist of the emergency before dashing into the other section of the cavern to do the same for Cliff. Once all the members of the party were gathered together, everyone could tell that their predators were drawing near. And from the sounds of it, they had a good idea of where their prey may be.

Cliff, being a Klausian, easily adjusted to having recently been roused, and took charge of the situation. "If we stay in here, we're gonna get caught. We'll have to backtrack to the river we saw on the way here and cross it. The Rockfolk won't dare follow us then, since they'll sink like… rocks. Alright, I'll bring up the rear guard. Let's get the hell out of here." He punctuated his commands by punching his hands together.

Nel and Fayt escaped first, with Nel in the lead due to her superior agility and talent for detecting escape paths with little notice. Next came Albel, who was followed by Cliff, who brought up the rear guard as he stated himself. Albel watched as his two shorter comrades disappeared around the bend of the mountain and followed suit. There was a steep decline before him and he expertly slid down without faltering. He managed to keep pace with the two more agile teammates until the landscape before him started swaying. To his shock and dismay, his stamina became miraculously shortened and he found it harder and harder to keep up with everyone else. When his vision began to spiral uncontrollably, he realized he would have to stop or suffer a possibly worse outcome of his escape. The young Captain urged himself to reach for his sword and at least have a means of defending himself with decent reach, but doubts pervaded as numbness permeated through his right forearm. Should he try to fight in his weakened state, it could prove disastrous. He slowed to a stop to catch his breath. It felt like his throat was closing as well. He could hear the sound of someone running behind him and contemplated whether or not this was the end for him. Yet Fate surprised him again:

"Yo, Albel! You been skippin' out on your exercise lately?" Cliff wasted no time in running by Albel and picking up the young swordsman as he passed.

"Put me down, you damn fool! I'm perfectly capable of running on my own!"Albel knew that, in truth, he likely wouldn't be able to stand for a long period of time. Arguing extensively wouldn't help the situation, either.

"Look, I can't have you slowin' us down. You might end up bein' the death of us if you do. Just deal with it now and you can tear my arms off later, got it?"

Albel let out an exasperated sigh and closed the conversation with a simple yet miffed "Whatever."

Cliff peeled the Black Captain's incredibly long, untamed hair out of his eyes as he realized they were approaching the river. It looked like it was high tide today, as the river's moody rage was unleashed on the stray rocks jutting out of the riverbed. "You can swim, right? The river looks pretty rough, so I won't be able to carry you through _that._"

"No shit." Albel replied. His eyes widened in surprise when he recognized what Cliff was about to do, and he would regard Cliff with much disdain and reproach for some time afterward. After all, the Twisted One did not appreciate being _thrown _into a river.

The two-tone tried to object before his comrade could complete the action, but he was greeted with a mouthful of water instead. He nearly choked and swam for the surface, but in his weakened state, it was virtually impossible to do so. He clawed his way up from the depths of the ferocious river only to be jerked asunder again and again by its wrathful undertow. Darkness clawed at the corners of his vision and lightheadedness accompanied his already-present dizziness as long as he remained underwater. Eventually he tore at a rock that jutted out of the surface of the river and pulled himself up with his remaining strength. He gasped for breath and looked from bank to bank, exhausted and unable to move. He simply latched himself onto the rock as he recuperated and waited for some of his strength to return to his spent body. Never before had he faced such a tribulation in the simple task of escape; it was amazing what an infection could do to one's physical health and endurance.

"C'mon, get it movin'!" Cliff yelled to the lanky Captain as he watched him procrastinate while clinging to a rock. He knew full well the capabilities of the Black Captain, which led him to question the reason behind his loitering. He waited at the riverbank out of concern for his waterlogged comrade, ready to assist him if need arises. However, the Twisted One surfaced and clambered up the steep bed with little difficulty and shot a condescending glare in the direction of the blonde before continuing the path of the bluenette and redhead. The four of them had met up in a clearing in the middle of a forest.

Fayt was the first to recover and speak up. "Is it really safe to stay here, Nel? If there were hunters after us already, then wouldn't it be wise to stay in a more… secluded area?"

The redhead paused to catch her breath before responding to Fayt's valid concern. "If you've studied the geography of Greeton, you'd know that there is a great river, the river Estre, that splits the country in two, The majority of the Rockfolk live in the southern region, and a mix of species live in the northern region. I think we're safe here; there shouldn't be any hunting bands around."

"I think it'd be best if someone keeps watch just in case. I volunteer for it, since you and Albel need a break from it." As to leave no room for arguments, Fayt wandered to a boulder implanted in the ground and sat down, keeping a keen eye toward the darkened forest behind them.

"Looks like he's go his mind made up. Well, I'm not gonna object." Cliff laid down in the soft grass of the field, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes in an attempt to relax after the recent ordeal.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Fayt?" Nel questioned, concerned for the inexperienced man's welfare. After an assuring nod, Nel gave up her efforts to coax him out of such a taxing job and laid on her side with her daggers placed next to her.

Albel, on the other hand, was caught in the warped surreality between consciousness and unconsciousness.


	6. Joumyaku Sarada, Vein Salad

Drowning in the Red Sea 

**Author: **To Be Determined

**Disclaimer: **Don't own SO3, don't own this, don't own that, and I'm disowning this fic, I swear it.

**Pairing(s): **This chapter will revolve mostly around Fayt and Albel, due to the lack of Fayt in the past chapters. No yaoi today, folks, sorry. This is a fic revolving around the mentality of the Twisted One, not his relationships.

**Warning(s):** I'm dealing with Albel, here. Of course there's gonna be swearing. And probably blood. God knows what else because I write this damn thing before I write the story.

**Special Thanks: **Thank you, Pyroclastic Flow, for dropping a review and pointing out those nasty typos. I'll get to fixing them in a few (they bother me o hell and back). And thank you, readers, for reading this piece of crap.

**I have a question: **Do my fics really suck that bad ? I mean, there are some poorly-written ones out there that have around 150 reviews, and I only have seventeen, along with somewhere around two lookers on my 4th and 5th of both fics. It blows. So if I should continue to write both fics, do say so in a review. It can't ALL be because of my writing style; I've not named the pair for this one yet.

Onto the story.

XxX

The sun was near its zenith when Albel woke from his comatose state. He was freezing cold, just like the first day he came to Airyglyph from Kirlsa. The air felt algid, despite the fact that there was no snow and quite a few markers to indicate its calefaction. The young swordsman sighted no one, and assuming he was alone, examined his infected arm once again. It looked worse than before, slightly swollen and reddened around the yellow-green cuts. It was disgusting and pussy, and the underside of his forearm was entirely numb like the night before. However, it seemed to have progressed a bit into his bicep. He knew it was a bad sign, and he might suffer some serious damage should he continue to ignore it.

"Did something happen to your arm, Albel?" Fayt seemed to have appeared out of nowhere directly in front of him.

"No, idiot. I'm fine." Albel sent a warning glare in Fayt's direction as to shoo him away before things got out of hand.

Fayt leaned over in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Albel's forearm, but the Black Captain was determined to keep it hidden. "Are you sure? If you're hurt, tell me. I've got more medical experience than Nel and the others."

"I said I'm fine, didn't I?" Albel's stoic countenance began to twist into a look of detest.

"Yeah, but I'm not stupid. You wouldn't be hiding-"

"Are you deaf?" Albel exclaimed incredulously, his vicious temper overcoming what little patience he had.

"Calm down, Albel, jeez… Just show me your arm and I'll leave you be, okay?"

"Fuck off, _Fayt_." Albel snarled.

Fayt was taken aback. He was well acquainted with the vulgarities that came out of the cynic's mouth, but it was never anything _this _vicious. The bluenette would agree with the older man that he was persistent, but he wasn't a masochist. Anger and disgust had shone through Fayt's features before he turned on his heel and went back to his post. Considering his actions, he figured that perhaps a little alone time would cool the angsty swordsman down. "I'm going to go check on Nel and Cliff." Without waiting for a reply, he headed off into the wilderness.

In truth, Fayt really had no idea where Nel and Cliff were, but he needed to get away from the 'plague', as Cliff so fondly nicknamed him. Fayt stopped and leaned against an oak to think for a moment. _Nel said she would scout the area for a better way to gain access to the river of Arisse, so I won't be able to find _her _anywhere. And Cliff said he'd wander into the nearest town and see what he could learn at the taverns. I guess that means I'm stuck with Albel, but it can't be _that _bad. If anything, there's plenty of space to explore if I get bored._ Fayt shrugged in consent of his last thought and settled for napping against the tree. He knew he was a light sleeper and the forest was amazingly quiet, so he figured he'd be okay should anything try to attack him. Off he dozed into the realm of sleep.

"Bah, useless piece of shit." Albel mused aloud in response to Fayt's actions. He tried to rise and make himself useful, perhaps find something to eat, but instead he discovered that his body was amazingly weak at the moment and his legs couldn't support him alone. Albel collapsed against the rock once again. He cursed loudly.

Fayt snapped awake, wondering what woke him. His emerald eyes darted about, scanning for enemies as his right hand reached instinctively for his sword, but he found nothing. He found the area to be safe, yet the sinking feeling in his stomach persisted. Perhaps something happened to Albel? He stood and began walking back in the direction of the clearing, but stopped himself.

_Albel's been an ass lately, and I know he's more than capable of defending himself. Still, I didn't wake for nothing, and it wouldn't hurt to check. If he decides to treat me badly again, then I always have the option of leaving again._ The bluenette resolved to stick with the original plan.

Upon arriving at the clearing, he quickly noted that nothing had changed. There was no sign of battle or any enemies nearby. He looked over to see Albel still seated against the rock. "Did something happen?"

"No, dumbass. I get along with you better when you're gone, so go back to where you came from and leave me alone." Ruby met emerald in a murderous gaze.

Fayt glared back. "Fine, fine, whatever. I'm sorry I came to see if you were okay. I'm sorry I even _cared _in the first place. In fact, I'm sorry I even _met _you. Cliff was right. You _are _a plague."

"If you're so damn sorry, then why don't you go meet up with your crutches and continue your goddamned pointless journey without me? I'd much prefer going on alone, and besides, Greeton isn't so bad when it's devoid of your wretched presence."

Fayt felt his temper rising to a dangerous level. Unable to form coherent, intelligent sentences, he simply left Albel with a consenting statement. "Fine, see if I care." And with that, he stalked off in the direction that both of his comrades left.

Albel's gaze pursued Fayt's fading figure with poignant condescension. As he vanished into the depths of the wilderness, Albel closed his eyes to the blinding sun. He began to contemplate what actions he should take at the moment: whether to eat or succumb to exhaustion to sleep. He settled for the latter and pulled his knees up to his chest and folding his arms on top. He scanned the area one final time, assuring himself that he was out of danger, before resting his head on his arms and falling asleep.

XxX

The Greetonite towns were far more advanced than that of Peterny or any other town in Elicoor, but it was still far more primitive than Earth. Massive working gears jutted out of the walls of functional stone buildings and the familiar sounds of machinery filled the air. Fayt noted that the streets harbored a sparse amount of people. Most weren't even humanoid, and likely didn't speak a language Fayt would be able to recognize. There would be no way he would find Cliff by standing still, so he began to venture through the tan sandstone streets of the Greetonite town. Foreign runes scribbled on an ornate arch above him conveyed the name of the town, though that was quite useless to him at the moment. He scrutinized the buildings with practiced ease, quickly identifying their size and layout with a similarly-built edifice of a specific purpose. _I guess it helps to pay attention in class after all, _Fayt thought to himself as he approached a building that would likely serve as a tavern.

"Thanks, guys," Cliff turned to leave as the door opened, narrowly missing his nose. Looking down, he watched as Fayt, who was obviously wrapped up in his thoughts, slam face-first into his chest. "Whoa, there, Fayt. Watch it. I thought you were back with skirt-boy; what happened?"

"Well, he's been… meaner than usual." Fayt replied stoically.

"Why don't we talk about this outside? We're blockin' the doorway." Cliff brushed the bluenette out of the way and they walked with a slow, seemingly listless gait in the direction of the entrance of the town. "I know he's a jackass and a freak, but what did he do _this _time?"

Fayt flinched when Cliff swore. He always found it frightening when bulky men swore. It reminded him of a confrontation he had within the first couple of weeks in college, a moment with a terrible outcome and a memory he'd rather forget. "You don't need to put it so… bluntly. Actually, he's always up before dawn and today he woke up around noon, so maybe he was just grouchy… I don't know. He was messing around with his arm and when I asked him about it, he got pretty hostile. He wouldn't tell me anything and kept treating me badly until I left. Do you think he was hiding something?"

"Honestly, Fayt, I don't give a damn. If he's gonna be a bitch, then we'll treat him like one." He pounded his fist into his hand and grinned at his comrade's look of concern. "Don't worry, I wasn't _really _gonna pound his ass into the ground… Well, maybe a little."

Fayt sighed.

"Fine, fine. I won't break his fingers off, but we need to talk to him. He's our ticket into the temple, you know." The two companions left town and retraced their steps back to the clearing they had previously spent the nigh at. It was well into evening and the sky gained a deep rose complexion when their destination was in sight. Upon leaving the cover of the trees, the two noticed the prone figure of the swordsman still sitting against a rock, apparently asleep. Cliff was the first to approach, with Fayt right behind him.

Cliff shook the young Captain's shoulder gently. "Yo Albel, get up."

No response.

"Albel…" Cliff said again, slightly louder. He shook Albel's shoulder vigorously. "Damn, the kid feels like he's on fire. Seriously, touch him, Fayt."

Fayt laid a hand on an exposed section of Albel's forehead. "You're right… We'll have to get him to a doctor, fast."

"We'd be able to get him there faster if he'd wake up… And here I thought _I _was a heavy sleeper." He tried one last time to shake the lanky swordsman's shoulder in an attempt to rouse him

A claw shot out with lightning speed and buried itself into Cliff's collarbone and shoulder. "Keep your disgusting fingers… off of me…" came a broken reply. Albel hadn't even lifted his head before he struck Cliff, which was exactly the reason why the attack connected. Cliff could feel the claw tightening around his bones, albeit weakly.

The Klausian grunted as he tore the blades of the swordsman's claw out of his arm and restrained the weakened warrior. "What the hell's your problem? I was tryin' to wake you up, not kill you!"

Albel strained to regulate his breathing as to form coherent sentences, but his attempts failed. Dizziness and nausea overtook him, and he would've been concerned about vomiting on Cliff (for his own pride, of course; not for the safety of Cliff's shirt) had there been anything present in his stomach. He ached everywhere, and had trouble concentrating on the person talking to him. Words didn't seem to make much sense to him; it sounded like garbled noise more than anything else. Coherent thoughts lost their coherence and reality became less realistic. Trees had blended together to form wooden arches, crowned with ribbons of green. The sky rippled like water. He couldn't even recognize the person yelling at him because of the bad distortion of his/her features. He struggled to free himself, but much of the strength had ebbed from his body due to several days without eating, along with the presence of the infection. "Get _off _me… damned maggot…" he rasped.

Fayt had recovered from the shock of what had happened and deliberated over whether or not to let it continue. Eventually, he chose to end the confrontation. "Cliff, let him go. There's no sense in arguing now; you both need medical attention."

Cliff bristled at the thought. Nevertheless, he realized that the bluenette was right and let go of the Black Captain. "Fine, we'll do it your way. Get your ass off the ground, Albel. We're goin'." The blonde stood and wasted no time embarking for the town once again.

Fayt, on the other hand, showed a little more concern for his delirious comrade and reached out a hand. "Albel, are you okay?"

The scantily-clad swordsman brushed Fayt's invitation for help to the side with the back of his hand. He tried to stand, yet his legs failed him and he collapsed to the ground once more. He watched, helpless as the figure standing beside him called out. The one that returned replied with an exasperated tone and Albel could feel one of its arms sliding under his knees and the other around his back. Suddenly he felt himself hoisted into the air and intense dizziness overtook him and he closed his eyes to clear the swimming sensation in his head. It wasn't long after that when he lost consciousness.

XxX

"Welcome, welcome!" came the warm greeting of an old woman. Her face creased into a friendly smile when she saw the blue-haired man walk in; she had hoped to assuage the boy's worry. However, she quickly realized the wrongs of her actions when she saw the tall, burly blonde man walk in with a gruesome wound on his shoulder. In his arms was a violet-clad young woman in her twenties, apparently unconscious. She quickly turned and bustled down the hallway behind her, motioning for the newcomers to follow her. She led them into an average-sized room with a table, chairs, a nightstand, and bed with white sheets. She gestured to the bed, giving the blonde man permission to relinquish his heavy burden. After doing so, she bid them all to take a seat and she began her routine for the fifth time that day. She began by introducing herself. "My name is Dr. Vivian Croid," she said, bowing slightly. "Pleased to meet you."

The bluenette stood and returned the bow. "My name is Fayt. This is Cliff, and over there is Albel." He gestured toward the prone figure on the bed.

She nodded in recognition before pacing to the opposite side of the room and stood next to the bed. "What happened to her?" She asked as she checked temperature and vitals. "Oh, she's burning up…"

"_He_," Fayt corrected before continuing. "We're not really sure. I think it might be something to do with his right arm." He faltered in the last syllable of his sentence as he felt something brush up against his leg. He spotted a cat trotting toward and hopping up on the bed where Albel lay. The cat immediately began to sniff his right arm and meow. "Can your cat understand people or something?" Fayt asked, oblivious to how stupid the question sounded.

Vivian laughed as she pulled off Albel's evening glove. "No, but she's a special breed of cats that help me detect wounds, just for cases like these." Vivian looked away from the two and regarded the newly-exposed arm and gasped. "Do you know how long he's let this infection go awry? Small wonder his fever was so high. He was probably experiencing florid delirium, too."

Fayt walked over to the bedside to see the damage for himself. He too responded with a gasp and look of shock. "What…"

"Maybe it's best that you wait outside while I take care of these two." She gestured to the door before tending to Albel's arm in a meticulous fashion.

"Yeah… maybe you're right…" Fayt replied obediently. He wandered out the door in a daze. _Albel was the _last _person I would expect to do that… What could've gone wrong?_

XxX

_Yeah, so now they know he's a cutter. Poor Albel, going four days without food and letting himself get infected. I actually had to look up symptoms of delirium and go off of that to adequately express his state of mind with the fever and all, and I still don't think I did a very good job. Feh. Well, tomorrow's another day, right ?_


	7. Mes Yeux Saignent, My Eyes Bleed

Drowning in the Red Sea 

**Author: **Dunno.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a goddamn thing about Star Ocean, except for my own opinion.

**Pairing(s): **Since this chapter consists mostly of pity and anger, there's little chance for a pairing to emerge.

**Warning(s):** Hello… it's Albel, here… And a lot of angst and shit going on (not to mention my own swearing), so expect bad stuff. But no rape.

**Special Thanks: Pyroclastic Flow: Oh, man, you were just what I needed. I was gettin' worried, there. Damn, do I owe you and need to become your slave and yada yada. **Oh, and thanks to readers that brought the hit total for this story up to 299. And to the word stingy, because it's a good word.

**Extra: **Switch the first two letters of Albel's name and you get label. Also, his last name is present in the word obnoxious. His creators must've hated him, I swear.

XxX

Albel awoke to find the whole of his field of vision crowded wit the sight of a blurry white thing. Upon touching the blurry white thing, he discovered it to be quite soft and it rumbled when he touched it. Suddenly it hit him: it was a cat. _How obnoxious_, he thought.

As he attempted to sit up, he discovered the presence of five more cats distributed along his body, each sleeping peacefully. Since he found no way of getting up without tossing a few cats around and incurring the wrath of the vengeful felines, he resolved to lay down once more and piece together the fragmented puzzle of what had happened to explain his presence in a room that he had no recollection of.

The events that followed his decision to nap remained lost to him, and from what bits and pieces he had drawn together, he surmised that some sort of argument between him and Cliff took place. Aside from that, the distinctive scent of medical tools was faint but detectable, leading him to believe this was another hospital, a makeshift one at that. Whoever had tended to his arm had done a remarkable job, as indicated by the neatness of the wrapping and the instantaneous improvement of its state. However, the means by which he got here disconcerted him. He couldn't recall who, if anyone, carried him here. On worst-case scenario, it could've been Cliff or Fayt (though he doubted a weakling like him could lift 140 lbs of dead weight) who carried him here, and that provided a slight chance that they could've learned of his 'affliction'.

The door on the far side of the room opened casually and Nel stepped inside. She leaned against the door and shut it softly, in case any of the six occupants were sleeping soundly. She sighed inwardly, as she was rather nervous about the inevitable confrontation. She crossed the room while dragging a wicker chair to Albel's bedside and sat with one leg crossed over the other. "Fayt told me about what happened, and I must say, I was completely surprised." She hoped the tone of comfort in her voice would coax the secretive man into disclosing the reasons behind his masochistic actions.

Albel's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. "Save it. I don't want your pity, your curiosity, or your company."

Nel sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "Albel, just hear me out for once. All I want to know is why you're doing this to yourself-"

"So you can correct the problem and use me to break into that precious temple of yours for the sake of Aquaria." He finished. "I don't need to explain myself to you, and I don't need you to complete the task my king assigned me."

"As a warrior, my duty to the queen is first and foremost, but you're forgetting that as a woman, I care about those I travel with. Even you, as hard as it might be for you to believe."

"Cut the semantics, Zelpher. You wouldn't understand, even if I told you."

She replied in a slightly aggravated manner. "If you insist, Albel. I was just trying to help." She planned on getting up and letting Albel marinate in his own angst and kittens, but one of the bundles of fluff bounded into her lap and curled up, instantly dozing off. She had no choice but to stay. She concentrated her affections on the kitten as she formulated a plan to crack through Albel's tough exterior. She decided to go for a bold approach. "Remember when the four of us stayed in the cavern of Mt. Feure a couple days ago? I asked you that question because I kept having a recurring dream about a man with the last name of Nox. He said his son died in the Accession of the Flame ceremony. In my dream, he was a very kind and noble man. Does his death still bother you?"

Albel snorted. "You think _that _would constitute my actions? You're sadly mistaken, fool." Finally fed up with the presence of the cats and his inability to sit up because of them, he pushed the cats aside and rose.

"I didn't want to resort to this, but do you really think you can remain the greatest swordsman in all of Airyglyph if you cut the tendons? You could've died out there if it hadn't been for Fayt's concerns about you. If you're not going to tell me why you're doing this to yourself, then the least you could do is thank Fayt for saving you from certain death."

"Bah." Came his instantaneous reply. He stalked out the door and left it ajar. Upon exiting the corridor, Cliff caught hold and tugged on a rattail gently. Albel immediately halted and whirled around. "Have you come to pry, too? You're nothing but an impetuous, short-tempered-"

"Cool it, man. I wasn't gonna pry, but if ya feel like tellin' me, I'm not gonna object. As much as I may… disagree with you, you _did _have me a little worried back there. I also know that even though you're the embodiment of all seven deadly sins, and I doubt you know what I mean, but you're smart enough to know that if you don't fix yourself up, you're gonna get infected. What was goin' on upstairs the whole time?"

"You never cared before, so why start now? It's not like this is a _recent _thing." Realizing he's said too much, Albel attempted to exit the makeshift hospital, but Cliff tugged him back by the rattails once again.

And this time, Cliff didn't let go. "I get the impression that you won't tell us a damn thing unless we force it out of you. So here's the deal: answer my questions and I'll let you go. If you don't, then you can try as much as you damn well please, but you won't be gettin' away unless these pigtails -or whatever you call 'em- tear off. Now you remember when we went to confront Lord Crossell, right? Were you cutting then, too?"

"Don't be a fool-"

Cliff cut him off sharply. "Answer my question."

Albel gritted his teeth. He didn't like telling anyone a damn thing. It was better to remain the Twisted One and retain a reputation of causing dolor and misery through cruel actions. He didn't want to know anyone personally for fear- no, for disgust of that someone knowing his secrets. And if that someone were so close to him and they react in such a way that spurns him, it would set the wheels in motion for more 'self-conditioning' to ensue, and that bout of self-conditioning could possibly prove fatal or leave permanent damage. His answer could lead to that exact scenario and ultimately be his demise, all because of Cliff's ultimatum and his askew priorities. Nevertheless, he was taking a chance. "…Yes," he finally responded.

"When did you start doing this to yourself?"

"Why does it matter-"

Once again, Cliff cut him off. "Didn't I tell you before to just answer me?"

"Fuck you. Let me-"

The Klausian tugged on the wrapped sections of hair roughly. "You're not going anywhere, I already told you that. Now answer the question."

Albel brandished his claw. Cliff, having the better reaction time, seized hold of it in an iron grip and refused to let go. When the shorter man saw no way out of the mess he got himself into, he consented to answer under his breath. "Thirteen."

"Damn… Why?" He never thought he'd catch himself caring about a caustic bastard like Albel, but here he was, wrapping himself up in the man's personal affairs. _Must've started the day off-kilter or somethin' like that, or it's a sign of the flippin' apocalypse…_

"Who cares? I have my own damn reasons, and they're none of your business, fool. Now let me go."

"Thirteen-year-olds don't usually have a concept of self-harm like this, _that's _why. Nel said she dug up some records about your old man about a week ago and she said you would've been _fif_teen, not _thir_teen. So what led you to it?"

_Inadequacy. Not that you'd know. Not that you'd care, either. It was inadequacy, all of it. My father was the perfect man: he had every honorable and favorable talent or disposition that anyone could hope for. People said he was perfect physically and mentally. As his son, it's my goal to supersede him, as with any family. He once told me that in the logical world, reality, the strong conquer the weak and live on in their stead. He also told me that pain was the best teacher one could have. In order to realize my goal, I employed pain as my mentor and trained every day until the skin on my palms tore off and my hands bled. If training didn't go as planned then self-conditioning awaited me at the end of the day. It was like I was two different people: the punisher who knew how to judge the crime and determine the consequences of the actions, and the punished that realized the repercussions of the crimes yet was forced to accept the consequences along with the guilt. It was my inefficacy that led to my father's death, and according to the logical world, reality, I shouldn't be living in his stead, as I am weaker than he. Ergo, there should be a high cost for living, and my left arm wasn't high enough. _"I'd rather not say."

Cliff sighed. "I guess I can't argue with _that _one. You didn't even insult me, either. Just take care of yourself from now on, okay?" As to confirm the sincerity of his statement, he let Albel go.

However, the social obstacles of Albel's path were not yet over. Fayt was waiting outside for him, and quickly joined him as Albel set off at a fast pace for some privacy. He made no effort to greet the younger man, nor did he intend to slow down to a more comfortable speed. He badly needed some alone time.

"Albel, wait. I know what you've been doing is a touchy subject, but I just want to-"

"Go, Fayt." His patience was stretched far too thin, and hurling insults at the bluenette will likely just push him over the edge. They were rapidly approaching the exit of the small-but-industrious town, and solitude waited for him just beyond that.

"I'm not going to stop following you until you acknowledge our concerns for you." He was, amazingly enough, keeping pace without panting.

"You're concerned. Now _go_." Patience is stretching far too thin…

"That's not good enough, Albel."

Patience snapped. Albel halted, just on the outskirts of the forest. Those words have haunted him all throughout his life, and spoken in that exact same phrase by many different voices. By Vox, by his father, by himself… and now Fayt, the most accepting person he's known. Was he truly that hopeless? Was the goal he had ascertained to reach _that_ quixotic? "Tell me this, _Fayt_. Is _anything _I do ever good enough?" He looked the bluenette straight in the eyes, unfaltering, demanding an answer. He _needed _this answer to determine his worth, not from his own perspective, but the most lenient of others'.

"Albel, the things you do are more than good enough. You've saved all of us from certain doom more than I can count on both hands. At times, you'd be the only one still going and defending everyone from harm. We owe you a lot, and the least we could do is try to help you out with whatever's been bothering you so much."

Albel said nothing. He ventured to the nearest tree and stood regarding it for a moment before punching it forcefully. He surveyed the damage left by his claw and saw that there was a deep indentation in the wood. However, it wasn't good enough. It could've been better. He sighed and shook his head, trying to shake the condescending, convoluted thoughts from his mind. When they remained stubbornly persistent about plaguing him, he sat with his back against the tree and fixed his gaze on the tree adjacent to him.

Fayt was quite concerned over the troubled swordsman. Sonant was unnecessary when it came to the infinitely expressive actions of the older man. Though it was taking a chance at being cleaved in two, he joined the Black Captain and sat in the grass. "Why do you try to act like you're fine when you're anything _but _fine?"

"You wouldn't know. You've never had a decent reputation to live up to."

Fayt elected to ignore the cynical comment. "Even so, I know what it's like to feel depressed, and it's not something I'd like to feel again. It's a lot harder to get through it without telling anyone about what's bothering you. Even if you are 'the Twisted One' and all that, you must've realized by now that reputations mean nothing to us."

Albel sighed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He wanted time to stop so he wouldn't have to deal with the constant bombardment of questions and accusations about what he has chosen to do to himself. If anything, it was his property and he could do anything he wanted with it, right? Mixed emotions stirred turbulently within him. Albel accidentally mused aloud a passing thought. "If reputations and titles are so worthless, then the person holding them must be worthless too."

"That's not true, though, Albel. There's a lot of merit that comes with a title, but it doesn't govern the way a person's supposed to act. Just because you're called Albel the Twisted doesn't mean you have to act inhuman all the time-"

"Shut up, Fayt, I don't care. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

A long silence ensued. Fayt absentmindedly played with a dandelion at his feet while he quietly contemplated. He realized Albel must not have been in the best of shape or moods when Nel went in to confront him, and he's probably dealt with Cliff as well. Perhaps it was the best course of action to just let him have some space rather than choking answers out of him. It's obvious that he's been through a lot and though he shows little emotion, things affect him deeply. Fayt smiled at the simple remedy for Albel's sufferance came to mind: _he needs a girlfriend._ Even though it was just a passing thought, it _does _tend to be a good remedy to despair. Before he met Sophia, Fayt found himself comparing his own intellect to that of his father's and brooding over the 'fact' that it was impossible for him to attain that kind of genius. He would lock himself in his dorm room for countless hours, studying and contemplating, and he devoted very little time to sleep. Sometimes he would work himself up far too much over insignificant minutia and end up breaking down. That was when he earned the nickname of 'wuss' or 'crybaby' or something childish of the sort. When Sophia came around, she changed everything. She helped him to realize that he was his own person and was free to do as he wished rather than confine himself to his father's studies and try to surpass what he could not. It was then that he gained an optimistic view of life and didn't ponder the inexplicable meaning of things or brood on what ridiculous actions he might've taken in the day. Well, it was a simple plan, and it was worth a try. But first… "Albel, are you gay?"

"Damn you fools who assume my sexual preference by the clothes I wear." Came the automatic reply.

"Then you like women?"

Albel opened his eyes and tried to clear the fuzziness and confusion from his head. " I find dating deplorable; it's readily admitting that you need another to survive. It's bullshit."

"So you don't know."

The reply didn't connect in Albel's mind. "…What?"

"You don't know if you're gay or straight. You said it yourself in a, er… roundabout way."

"…You're full of shit. Go back with the other maggots; I'm tired of you."

Fayt sighed. "Just go along with me for a second; I want to help you. Sometimes having a significant other can really improve your attitude. Not everything seems so miserable anymore."

"You're wasting my time…" Albel hissed.

Fayt regarded the swordsman with a look of concern. "All I'm trying to say is it might change your outlook on life. That's all."

"I'm not out to kill myself!" Albel retorted. "That's preposterous…"

Fayt laughed. "All right, I believe you. Nel says that going by the new route she scouted, we'll have to go through three more towns before we can get to the river. We'll wait for you at the inn, okay?"

"Bah, whatever." Albel waved him away and closed his eyes without bothering to check if Fayt had gone yet. He simply… didn't care.

Fayt stood and began the return to the inn. A lot had happened in one day, yet they accomplished so little. Albel had been talking to him in a more straightforward manner, rather than his usual ambagious way of speaking. Even though Albel's welfare was important in his mind with mission aside, his mental state also put the mission at stake. If he wanted to test his theory, he'd have to present it to Cliff and Nel and see if they'll become a little more tolerant of him. There was still quite a long was for the Black Captain to come before he could face the guardian of the temple, and there was very little time to accomplish it.

XxX

There's another chapter down. I'm somewhat near the end now, there's not gonna be more than thirteen chapters, maybe. Anyhow, my goal in Albel's thought process was to show a balance of passion and reason, though in a very twisted way, very much characteristic of everyone's favourite transvestite. Hopefully this chapter wasn't _too _boring. There will be more action coming.


	8. Quel Dolce Suono, l'Inno di Morte

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Bonus Chapter: Quel Dolce Suono, il Inno di Morte**

(_That Sweet Sound, the Hymn of Death_)

**Note: **This chapter is a bonus chapter, and is not necessarily required to understand the storyline. It is simply a further development of the Twisted one's mindset, an explanation of his reasons behind self-mutilation, and his views on those he travels with. It is, essentially, a transition chapter between chapters 7 (Mes Yeux Saignent) and 8 (Eyes of a Sunrise).

**Warning(s): **Contains swearing and morbid themes.** Don't proceed if you don't like twisted mindsets. **Though if you like Albel, then I don't think I need to warn you.

XxX

Day 14:

Yesterday, those morons found out about my little secret. At first they pretended to be eager to understand, but after a while, they dropped the facade and became hellbent on yelling at me for it. It's not like I give a damn, though; it won't change my mind.

I guess you could say my life was normal up until I was thirteen, as cliché as that sounds. It was just before my thirteenth birthday that a new family moved into Kirlsa. The town was so damn small that it was everyone's business if someone moved in, even though they'd probably never speak to that person for the rest of their life. If I hadn't conversed with that kid, then I'd probably be like my father now, and he would be alive, and I'd be his second-in-command of the Dragon Brigade. Vox would be my underling; a satisfying thought. But I digress.

The kid was about 5' 6" and had jet-black hair. It wasn't that short either, about as long as mine is now (and I'm not talking about my bangs, I mean the wrapped shit that I always get caught in doors or on sharp objects). I can't remember a whole lot more about the kid, considering it was the hair that I always stared at. It wasn't the fact that it was long, it was that it seemed… supernatural. No, unnatural. It never cast a shine, even in the sun. Not a damn thing reflected off of it. It was like a perpetual shadow, doomed to conceal the kid completely, at times. Anyhow, it took me about a week to get past the hair only to get hooked on the eyes, which were a light grey-blue and as turbulent as the clouds over Airyglyph castle. He always seemed so troubled, and sometimes I'd think the pattern of his iris moved when it was overcast out. Outside of that, there wasn't anything remarkable about him. He was scrawny, average height, and pale; and he always kept his hair up to keep it from dragging on the ground, much like I do today.

I remember I ran into him on the street when I was heading to the grocer's to run some errands. The clumsy kid fell on his ass and back then I had enough compassion to help him up rather than laugh in his face or spit on him. He told me he was new there and that he didn't know anyone of his age, so I offered to show him around, though in a detached tone (I just wanted the damn day to end). He also told me his name was Sacro Et Nex while I was showing him around the pitiful dump that was Kirlsa, and he also said he didn't remember where he came from. I told him I couldn't give a shit. The moral of the story here is that I treated the kid like dirt.

It had been about a month since the kid became my curse (fucking _stalker_, I swear), and another month 'til I turned thirteen. He'd always been nice to me, even though I hated him. Or at least I thought I did. We were sitting on a hill somewhere behind Woltar's mansion when I discovered that my loathing of the boy was… quite the opposite. I'll see if I can retell the memory with a little paraphrasing here and there, but I'm warning you, I'm not a fucking novelist.

It was dusk, the sun had set but the sky was still tinted with colour. The two of us were still sitting on a rather lifeless hill under a tree that had lost most of its leaves. Below us was a moor that was known as the Valley of the Snakes (for obvious, ascertainable reasons), which was where we usually threw rocks when we were bored. It was, if I remember correctly, the summer solstice so we had the option of staying out late. I recall there being a very long, heavy silence before he (Sacro) spoke.

"Albel, do you ever really _think _about anything?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Of _course _I think about things. I'm not an empty-headed dolt like you." I wasn't that mature then, nor were my insults.

He never looked me in the eyes, not once, while he was speaking. His gaze remained fixed on the stars. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it was a paradox. "That's not what I meant. I mean… ponder things, like the meaning of life. Y'know, philosopher stuff."

"Pfft. No, you take me for a fool? I'm gonna grow up to become a great soldier like my dad, and they don't have time to think about petty things like philosophers do. They just do their job and serve the country."

"You're right. They never consider those things, not even the consequences of their actions. Neither do you. You always jump at the chance of insulting me whenever that aforementioned opportunity presents itself without taking the time to contemplate the repercussions of your decisions. You're nothing but an opportunist, manipulating others for your own advantage, with a depraved indifference to their welfare. In a sense, it's despicable, but I guess it's human nature."

"…What? What are you talking about?" I didn't understand a damn thing back then.

"I'm talking about you, Albel Nox. You hold complete and total disregard for others' physical and mental health, and think nothing of the future. You act on impulse and blame others for any negative outcomes of your actions. You are, essentially, the Incomplete Being that it a burden among all others. You are all but a parasite, and do nothing to help improve the lives of others. You are the antithesis to your father, a noble man who serves loyally and will not hesitate to improve the life of another, even at his own expense. You, on the other hand, only see others by their practicality and naivety, and are quick to reprimand and criticize others in a condescending manner, not because of their nature, but because of their social rank or looks. You are the quintessence of corruption."

I was about to cry. I was almost a fucking teenager and I was ready to bawl my eyes out. "You're full of shit." And with that, I stood and left. I wasn't about to sit there and show him he won; I was too prideful for that. However, I never forgot what he said.

Being that Kirlsa was such a tiny, backwater town, I saw Sacro almost every day. After that night, it took about a week for me to talk to the kid again, and it seemed like he forgot about what happened. Sure, it shocked me and it pissed me off, but after what he said, I became mindful of what I said to him. Every time I saw him, though, I got intensely depressed. Like if someone were to hand me a knife, I'd go and off myself the second I got the chance, that's how bad it was. Yet that depression vanished with his fading image and life returned to normal again, as in waking from a dream. But that's not the point. The point is that I always laid in bed at night, usually a couple hours after I saw Nex and I'd think about what he said to me on the hill that day. I was never one to dwell on what other people said, but I just couldn't figure out what he meant. It took me about a week before I realized that the answer was right in front of my face the entire time and I punched the wall for being such a damn idiot. That was the first time I'd ever invested in self-conditioning, and the result was bloody knuckles. Sure, it hurt like hell, and I was never a masochist, but I learned not to take so damn long to figure out what anyone had to say anymore.

Well, I mentioned earlier that I didn't exactly _hate _Nex. He was a damned smart kid, and he caught your eye in the crowd. His skin was always perfect and he knew how to dress himself. On top of that, he was usually pretty calm and stoic, so there wasn't much to fault him for. He just didn't know how to defend himself by any physical means. Anyhow, I revered the kid for all the qualities he had, and I compared him to Glou sometimes. Even though I eventually became obsessed with trying to impress him, there was never any love between us. It was more of a desperate attempt to understand and come to terms with each other. Whenever I think of it, the word 'hopeless' comes to mind. I'm coming way too far off the subject now.

It became that whenever Sacro would comment negatively about anything I said/did, I'd go home and punish myself to prevent it from ever happening. It always seemed to work. Since my idea was derived from Glou's comment of 'pain is the best teacher', I considered the idea infallible. And damn, I couldn't have been farther from the truth. My mistakes went from simple errors in speech and faulty footwork when demonstrating swordsmanship to mistakes in judgment on assigned missions or negative traits. That, in turn, caused the stakes to rise. Bloodied knuckles became broken fingers and split lips became mangled messes that required stitches. It's a miracle that I never scarred.

I hoped for death on the day that Nex's parents were to move. I had grown to be far too attached to Sacro during the time we spent together, and I was a mindless, useless piece of shit (much like a woman) without him around. I was absolutely obsessed with him. He was my reason for being, my entire world even more so than Glou. We said our goodbyes in our usual stoic manner (he taught me to never show your true emotions) and he left the city. I never saw him again. Nor was I ever the same.

I spent the next couple weeks hopelessly despairing over the loss of Sacro. It was like he was dead now, and I'll never get to see him again (in actuality, I never _did _see him again, but that's aside from the point). I couldn't focus on swordsmanship and I became quite a bit more withdrawn. That in itself increased the amount of self-conditioning I received and ultimately set me up for a plethora of pain as the aforementioned self-conditioning would usually affect my performance during lessons or battle. On my thirteenth birthday, Glou gave me a real katana, and a fine one at that. At night, when I was sure that Glou and all of his maids were asleep, I thought it would be a good idea to end my life with it (so I was dumb shit back then, what of it?). Unfortunately, it didn't work and I woke up with poignant agony shooting through my arms where I cut the veins. That was when I 'suddenly discovered the appealing fashion statement of evening gloves'. Yeah, bullshit, I know. It was necessity.

When I let slip any small indication of my normally melancholic mood, Glou would notice and ask if something was wrong. I'd quickly deny it and assume a façade of indifference throughout the rest of the day, and then at night I would punish myself for allowing such a dangerous mistake to happen. In this way, I learned how to get over the departure of Sacro and move on with my life, whilst simultaneously employing all that I learned from him. I was pretty successful.

Give it another two years and it's the day before the Accession of the Flame, and I was nervous as hell. Glou seemed nervous too, because I remember him pacing around the room telling me I was going to do fine (which was a complete lie, by the way, because I think he doubted me too). I brushed up on my skills for about four hours, and when my hands started getting raw despite the calluses, I had to stop. There's usually a ceremonial event that happens if it's someone important going to their death- I mean, the dragons' lair, but I couldn't remember much of it. It wasn't anything fancy (or anything important), that much I _can _recall. After that, it was an 'off you march to your doom' kind of thing. And I suppose it _was _a death march for Glou, seeing that he decided that my life was worthy of being spared at his expense. I still have nightmares about that.

Nine years after Glou's death and all the negative traits I possessed had carried over, and any good ones died with him. I met Fayt and his band of failures and I realized he reminded me of Sacro. It was ridiculous, considering Sacro would not be that naïve, but I guess it was the blue-haired idiot's tolerant nature that reminded me of him. Anyhow, the point is that they fucked up my twisted life even more than it already was. I ended up being imprisoned with treason because of my own pride and lack of skills, and their persistence. Then they showed up again, and I heard the guard at the door ask, "Are you here to pick up Albel Nox?" (it reminded me of picking up a prostitute more than anything else) and in they marched. They gawked, and I half-expected them to point and laugh like I expected Vox to do when the trial was over (instead, he did something far more atrocious and laughed when I _bled_). When they didn't hurl insults at me, I left with no comments.

After traveling through the universe and going on a perilous adventure that I didn't even _try _to understand, life went back to normal until some servant maggot knocked on my door with a summons from the king. I went and he sent me off again with the same damn group of rejects. Now I'm on a mission to help our former enemy Aquaria to become stronger militaristically. Dumbass… But I digress again. These idiots finally found out about my habitual self-conditioning when I almost died of infection (I still hate myself for that), and now they're going to take it into their own hands to do something about it. It's disgusting, if you think about it, because they're so damn conceited to think they can correct something that's been a vital part to my life for eleven years. After Fayt gave me his best friend act, he suggested an oversimplified solution to the supposed 'problem' and then ran off to do hell knows what. He mentioned something about a girlfriend, but I already vowed that I would be self-reliant and independent after Sacro left. _He _didn't know that, and I wasn't about to tell him, either. I already said too much when Cliff told me to answer his questions at risk of my hair getting torn out. I really don't see why they care, either.

I guess what I just said was a lie. I _do _see why they care, because it's pertinent to the mission. There's supposedly a spirit dragon that guards the entrance to the temple of the Tesracs, and they need me to kill it. After that, we go our separate ways and I hunt down some damn piece of jewelry while they learn spells that probably mean the end of Airyglyph. And I heard that the warrior who is unfortunate enough to fight the dragon has to be strong emotionally as well, and that's why they think they can shove their noses in my damn business whenever they want to. Curse them. Curse the mission. Curse my life. Like I give a damn anymore…

I should burn this damned paper before any of those worms get ahold of it. They wouldn't understand my logic, anyways. I'm sure those pathetic maggots are in bed by now, so it's time to plan my punishment for letting slip so many important details. I'm not sure what it will be yet, but I _do _know it'll be costly…

XxX

Albel's so bitter. Anyhow, PLEASE review and tell me how you liked it. The first-person view isn't new to me, and the only time I used it was in my extremely long story (it could pass for a book… I calculated it to be over 200 pages paperback) about Karasu. Karasu is my sarcastic, smartass original character that is somewhat like Albel. So… if Albel seems somewhat OOC, then I probably blended his character with Karasu's. If this is the case, PLEASE warn me.

**Note: **Sacro Et Nex means "Doom and Doomed" in Latin, a vague reference to Karma. Because of his ruthlessness toward Sacro, the boy becomes the start of his black spiral of despair. Also, Albel refers to his dad (in current times) as Glou, thus dissociating himself with his father. Because of his low opinion of himself, he prefers to detach himself from his bloodline and thus keep it 'pure and untainted'.


	9. Fayt's Whimsy, Albel's Repulsion

Drowning in the Red Sea 

**Author: **Dunno.

**Disclaimer: **I'm only fifteen and certainly not a genius. I obviously don't own the game.

**Pairing(s): **Well, this chapter's the chapter that decides who Albel's love shall be. The way I chose it was rather… unorthodox. I took a dead battery out of my digital camera and divided it into three equal sections with my Sharpie, then wrote an 'F' for Fayt, an 'N' for Nel, and a 'C' for Cliff. Then I rolled it. Ta-da, everyone.

**Warning(s):** Likely a lot o' swearing by the one who was 'chosen' to be Albel's significant other. If it's Cliff, it might be a little naughty, given his sex drive.

**Special Thanks: **To my readers who are nice enough to get this far in the story. I mean, c'mon, it's not even one of the better fanfics. It's… in the middle.

**Special: **Due to the fact that I have over 500 hits (I'm sure you could've seen my surprise: OH MY GOD! Author falls over and flatlines), I had already written a bonus chapter for all of you, and **you can make requests for what you want to happen between Albel and his new lover**. Because **I haven't written a pairing before**, I'm gonna need some advice as to what you guys like and dislike, as well as what's within reason (and that I can handle myself, thank you).

Now, on to the story.

XxX

Fayt walked through the doorway, intently studying the lengths of three sticks present in his palm. When he closed his fist around them, the ends were concealed and only the tops of the sticks stuck out at virtually the same length. He considered it good enough and looked up to see Cliff and Nel watching him with curiosity. After giving a nervous smile, he decided to present his case. "Nel, you said our warrior has to be strong of heart to pass the dragon's judgment, right? Well… I have a theory on how we can get Albel to achieve that."

Nel sat back and made herself comfortable. She was interested in what he had to say, but knowing Fayt, it would be a long explanation. "What is it, Fayt?"

Fayt shrugged his shoulders. "He needs a significant other. So I gathered that none of us would date him given the choice, so we'll draw straws."

Cliff wasn't so pleased with the idea. "Aw, c'mon, Fayt. The guy's gotta be straight, Let Nel take 'im."

A shocked look crossed Nel's face. "You can't be serious! He dresses like a woman, and his ensemble is entirely purple! Not to mention his behaviour… You two can do this."

Fayt sighed. He was always the one to break up arguments, be it between Cliff and Albel, Cliff and Nel, or Nel and Albel. "For all intents and purposes, we will assume he's bisexual. Now that that's over with, we'll draw straws. Nel, you go first."

"All right," she agreed. She leaned over from where she sat and plucked a stick out of Fayt's hand. It was relatively short. She frowned, concerned that it might be her to wind up with the social disaster known as Albel Nox. She made a mental note to start a list of all things good about the Captain.

Next was Cliff, who reached over easily and drew the next stick. It, too, was relatively short. He studied the length and compared it to Nel's, but couldn't tell which was the shorter one. But then again, it might be Fayt who drew the shortest straw. He had a hunch that it was.

However, Cliff's hunch was wrong. Fayt opened his hand and revealed the longest stick. "I guess I'm out of the running. So who has the shortest one?"

Nel and Cliff compared sticks. It took a moment, but they determined that Cliff had the shortest stick. Along with that realization came a long slew of expletives, and a liberal (but equal) amount directed towards Fayt or Albel. When the tantrum ceased, Cliff immediately apologized for what he said about Fayt, considering he was blinded by anger, and then sauntered out the door, determined to plan out what he should do.

Upon walking outside, he immediately noticed that the sun had just risen, as it was blinding him since the inn faced east. He wondered if that was planned… He disregarded it and ventured out onto the lazy streets of Anzel. Few merchants called to him, since most were too busy reveling in the perfect temperature of the morning and the slight mist that left dew on the newly-imported plants. The town sat on the bank of a river quite massive, though normally docile. Cliff stood on the edge of the bank, a ways away from the town, and looked north to the quiet river as he thought. Birds began to wake, chirp, and fly about, so he watched them and appointed them the job of being his muse. The mother bird fed her newly-hatched baby birds before pushing them out of the nest to fly on their own. At first, the little birds struggled, but they persevered and off they went, flying about on their own. Perhaps the same strategy could apply to his predicament.

Cliff shrugged and walked deeper into the wilderness, to where Fayt said he saw Albel last. Hell, what mama Bird was doing was worth a try. It's not like Nox couldn't stand on his own two feet. He saw the landmark of Fayt's little tale of his meeting with the moody Captain, a gargantuan oak tree that towered above the rest, adorned with emerald-green leaves and the jewels in its crown were dozens of birds' nests scattered about. The trunk was of an impressive size, Cliff would have to use three of himself to wrap around the massive diameter of the tree. As much as he would've preferred to stay and ponder how a tree could naturally reach that size, he had to complete the task at hand. So off he embarked, strolling under the covered walkway that was the forest floor, looking for any hint of purple and angst. There he found it, though angst was not the accompanying colour. There was, to his slight dismay, quite a bit of red mixed in with the purple.

Upon reaching the site, he assessed the damage that the lanky swordsman did unto himself. There were deep claw marks on his inner thigh along with some nasty wounds of the same type cutting into his hip and stomach. Quite a few gashes damaged his shoulder as well, and a singular cut (a rather deep one at that) possibly penetrated his jugular. Cliff quickly set to work in dressing the wounds with the medical supplies that the group supposed Cliff would need. He wasted no time in getting the scantily-clad man cleaned up and scrutinized his work. Overall, it would suffice. It wasn't the medical attention that the younger man needed (but then again, Cliff supposed they didn't have psychology on this planet, as that was invented in the early 1900's and not the 1600's).

The Klausian sat next to the unconscious form of Albel and addressed him aloud. "Y'know, you sure are a pain in the ass to deal with awake. At least this way, all I need to do is change the bandages every once in a while and I won't get my head torn off for doin' it." Cliff let out an exasperated sigh as he thought back to all the times that Albel was injured in battle and it was his turn to deal with the temperamental swordsman. He never escaped without his pride suffering fatal wounds. Cliff looked over to regard the younger man, as he'd never seen him _asleep _before.

It was well worth the wait. The Klausian almost gaped when he saw how incredibly smooth and faultless the young man's face was when it wasn't creased with a sneer. Slight drifts of wind brushed the hair across his face, shrouding perfect features in two-toned mystery. He had never seen the caustic swordsman look so at peace before. Cliff wasted no time in transitioning to the studying of the younger man's hair as it drifted weightlessly in the breeze. Given the time period, Cliff would've said it was impossible to achieve the status of perfection with hair, but Albel somehow managed. Patches of sunlight reflected off the deep brunette sections of his hair without a flaw in its shine, and the blonde tips glowed like molten gold. However, it wasn't just his face and hair that seemed perfect to Cliff. The young swordsman's skin was liquid smooth, albeit pale, and he was not disfigured by any malignancies or anything of the sort. Violet cloth stretched tightly over his chest and lounged loosely under his right thigh. Since the younger man was laying on his right side, much of the fabric fell away to the grassy floor and exposed quite a bit of thigh. Cliff tried not to peek. Albel was a _man_, after all.

After assessing the Black Captain's faultless looks, he tried to critique him in order to keep himself from staring in the future. The only mistake (if you could call it that) in Albel's deific design was the claw. Had he been able to save his other arm from whatever happened, he would be the closest thing to perfect that Cliff had ever witnessed. That was, of course, if you disregarded the cuts and brutal personality. That killed it for him.

Since Albel looked so damn flawless and Cliff had the shortest straw, he surmised that he had the right to touch the ductile perfection that was Albel's hair. He scooted closer to the two-tone and took off his glove, throwing it to the side. Gently, as to not wake the seemingly bipolar man, he ran a naked hand through his hair. Much to Cliff's expectations, the hair was smoother than he had previously thought. I made him wish more than ever that Albel was a woman with a heart of gold. Like _that _was going to happen… Without another thought to what _could've _made this moment better, he continued his caressing of Albel's hair, and on some occasions, his cheek.

Gradually, the young swordsman was stirred into semiconsciousness, and finally, consciousness. He felt someone's gentle touch as they caressed his hair and cheek, and though he felt quite comfortable to just lay there and feign sleep, he knew it would ruin his image to do so. Besides, judging by the size of he hand, should it be who he thought it was, then the aforementioned person would already know he was awake. So Albel opened his eyes to the sight of Cliff's ass right next to his face. He sat up as quickly as he could, inadvertently forcing Cliff's hand to his side (as even_ Cliff _couldn't retract his hand fast enough). "What the hell are you doing?" Albel demanded incredulously. "Have you forgotten your place, maggot?"

Cliff instantly scooted away from the younger man as he practically exploded. "I was just makin' sure you weren't suffering from any head injuries, okay? Nothin' outside of that, so cool it. …Whoa, there. You okay? Is the blood loss killin' ya?" Albel had suddenly lost balance, swaying precariously back and forth. Cliff helped to steady him, and quickly withdrew his hand as to not get it lopped off due to the swordsman's fiery temper.

"I'm fine… Just leave and go plague someone else with your unwanted presence." It was cold and he was irritable. He never liked showing weakness in front of the older (and in his mind, more capable) man.

Cliff thought for a second, at first wanting to decline and bug the already-ruffled Albel. "All right, I'll make you a deal. If I leave, you have to eat something. Got it?"

"What the hell kind of a deal is _that_?"

"It's a deal that'll keep you alive, _that's _what. If you don't like it, tough luck. Also, you need to quit doin' so much damage to yourself. It ain't good for you. You might die some day, and then who will be the thorn in my ass, huh?" Cliff waited expectantly for an answer, and the one that came was less than satisfying.

"Fuck you," was all the reply he got, along with a flurry of violet brushing against his cheek as the lanky Captain stood and stalked off into a more remote location of the woods. Cliff was left to ponder where he went wrong before realizing that a note had fallen out of the back of Albel's skirt. He picked it off of the forest floor and carefully opened it. After scanning the contents, he read it over once more to process it. He slowly folded the note, shoving it into his back pocket as he thought about what to do. Now he knew why Albel is the way he is, and he also realized how Fayt's idea seemed all the more fitting. _Better get to work, _he thought to himself.

Cliff stood and dusted himself off. He'd be stepping on glass from now on, and he couldn't afford to be less than perfect. After all, he doubted that Nel would have the time and patience to camp out for a week in front of that river while he was trying to convince a moody Albel that life isn't as bad as it seems. However, things had heated up for the scrawny man in the past couple days, so he supposed it would be wise to let the younger man keep to himself for a while. It certainly meant a lot less work for Cliff, and though he wasn't a procrastinator, time away from the Voice of Doom in the party was never a bad thing.

XxX

For once, the bumbling oaf wasn't following him. No one else seemed to be tracking him down, either. Of course, he wasn't complaining. He liked it better when they left him alone. It already seemed like a long day, even though the sun was still in the eastern sky. The party had begun their journey once more, and the sun was the guide to their location, annoying as it was. Albel trailed behind the rest of the troupe, glad to receive a little breathing room without complaint. He always wanted to pick at the bandage around his thigh, too. It irritated him as well, but what was more irking was the curiosity of whether or not Cliff's eyes wandered where they didn't belong when he took it upon himself to risk his life and bandage up the Twisted One. Why he wondered that, he didn't know. The only thing he should be concerned about is if Cliff raped him, and his ass wasn't bleeding or sore, so he supposed he was fine.

Further ahead, he could see the three idiots form an inverted triangle as they came into confrontation with a couple Greeton beasts. Watching them was rather pointless, but there was not much else going on to entertain him. He stifled his laughter and one of the monsters tripped Fayt and he fell on his ass. Sometimes it was worthwhile to watch Nel, who was considerably more graceful and agile than the other two. He always considered her to be more capable than the other two, albeit she was a woman. And as for Cliff… well, he was the dumbass who always ran in first and punched out whatever he could before he nearly got himself killed. He could swear that the damn blonde didn't have a brain. If he did, then hell, Albel would consign to religion.

The battle ended and the Three Stooges reigned victorious, as usual. The excitement faded and everyone returned to the road they were following that would lead them to the next town in a matter of days. All was well in the world of Albel until Nel turned around and waited for him to catch up. Albel guessed that she told the others not to wait up, because they didn't hesitate for a second. He figured it was an inevitable confrontation, so he retained his leisurely pace and caught up with the redhead. She turned and began walking beside him. "I'm surprised you weren't running ahead to kill something."

"I don't need you mocking me, maggot. If that's all you came here for, then you can play with the pond scum up ahead." He missed his time to himself already.

Nel sighed and shook her head. He was always so paranoid and caustic. "I wasn't trying to mock you. Look, I know it was rude of us to intrude on your personal affairs, so I wanted to make it up to you."

"How?" He doubted that she could do anything decent to make up for their idiocy.

"First, by apologizing, then by explaining the reason behind our, or rather, _my _actions. I'm sorry if you considered what I did to be reckless folly, but I _did _have good reasons for them. You and I both know that you're the key to gaining access to the temple, but that's not the only reason I tried to understand your decisions. When we were in Fayt's celestial ship, there was a lot to try and understand. A lot of my world was questioned when I was introduced to these new technologies. It was impossibly confusing, and my lack of understanding of what was going on around me isolated me from the group. Then I realized that you were going through the same thing, and I took comfort in that. I was content with the simple knowledge that I wasn't alone in trying to understand a world so different from the one that was my home. So, I suppose it felt like I was returning the favour by trying to help you. And I do believe that I still owe you that favour." Nel paused, thinking over whether or not that was all that she needed to say. After affirming that all that needed to be said was said, she consented to let Albel speak.

"And how might you return the favour _now_? The same way as before? By prying into my personal affairs and questioning my every action?"

"I can't force you into anything. The least I could do is listen to you, when your requests are within reason. So I guess you want me to join 'the two worms' again, correct?"

"I don't care. Do as you will." At least Nel was the least annoying of the three, even though her sentimentality as a woman was grating. He didn't know why he refrained from shoving her off to join the other two, or even why he wasn't cussing her out for her invading private matters. Maybe he was tired of this. Even so, it seemed all right to travel east with the two lunatics far ahead, and the company at his side silent with thought.

XxX

So it seems like Cliff's going after Albel, and Albel doesn't seem to mind Nel all that much anymore. And Fayt, of course, is trying to befriend everyone's favourite swordsman (Kenshin, eat your heart out). We'll see how it all turns out. Hope you guys liked it, and sorry it took so long to update. There's been a bit of conflict floating around. Anyhow, I strongly encourage those who read this to review, be it anonymously or when signed in. It's courteous, and it's motivation for me, along with assurance that my writing does not suck. Thank you, everyone, and stay tuned for the next installment.


	10. Prelude to Desperation

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**I'm pretty sure everyone knows the drill by now.**

**Warning(s): **The usual swearing, possible yaoi. God knows with Albel… Like I said, I write this out before the story.

**Also: **If anyone points out any errors for me, you get a cookie. I write this without any proofreading (and I'm too damn lazy to do it), so if you spot anything, don't hesitate to tell me.

**Notes: **PF (Pyroclastic Flow), so sorry that Albel wasn't tipping over with dizziness. He would've been woozier, you're right, but I accidentally left that part out in my quest to establish other things. Thanks for the notice though. Also, I wasn't planning on having Nel lust after Albel, so don't worry.

XxX

The sun had reached its zenith in the sky, as did the temperature. It was sweltering hot in the arid deserts that speckled the long stretches of countryside between towns. The country of Greeton had a truly sparse population… And to further Albel's already dismal mood, there was the realization that the only shade that would be provided to them was that of a sand dune eclipsing the sun. And considering that the sun was high in the sky, shade was not going to offer itself to the traveling companions anytime soon. Cliff and Fayt had already stripped off their shirts and gloves, but Nel stubbornly resisted the heat in order to retain a woman's modesty. The Black Captain almost felt sorry for her, and had he not thought that modesty was a wasted moral, then he might've given her more respect.

He concluded that the heat was becoming too much to bear, and stripped off his stockings in favour of ventilation. Since his skirt would provide some shade for his legs, he didn't have to worry about the high temperature cooking them. He had fallen a bit behind since he stopped to remedy his situation, and his companions were yelling at him to hurry up already. He sighed as he quickened his pace to stay within a decent range of the group (but not too close, as that would warrant contact with certain morons).

However, and much to Albel's dismay, one of those aforementioned morons dropped back to presumably converse with him over pointless topics. That moron was Cliff, and the topic was Albel's physical and mental health. "Hey, you okay? You seem to be staggerin' back and forth like a dunk."

Was he staggering? The landscape seemed fairly steady to him… "I am not drunk and I am not staggering, so quit wasting my time and drag your damned hulking ass back up there with the rest of the worthless vagabonds."

"Jeez, you don't need to tear my head off for just asking a question… You remember what Nel said about the Valley of Obduration, right? Well, I hope you're prepared, 'cause I can see its nasty blizzard up over that sand dune." He pointed to a faint hint of white activity over a particularly tall dune in the distance.

"You know full well that I never listen to a damn thing that comes out of that wench's mouth." This wasn't exactly, the truth, but it seemed parallel to what he would've said had he not an inkling of respect for Nel.

"Lay off for a while, will ya? I'm trying to do you a favor, here… She said that the Valley of Incontinence 'is aptly named when considering its irregular weather changes'. Basically, one minute it's as bad as this desert, and the next, you're buried in the middle of a snowstorm. And to top it all off, the gravity's all screwed up there. She said it was the result of a nasty battle between Aquios and the ancient Greeton warriors, and the clash of their weaponry. Basically, expect the unexpected and be prepared for anything."

"…Fuck." The last thing he wanted was the tangible form of his mind looming ahead. Not only that, but the blonde oaf had the nerve to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which deserved a murderous glare from the recipient of the gesture. As Cliff quickly recoiled his hand for fear of having it amputated in an utmost gruesome manner, Albel took advantage of the opportunity to pull ahead of the Klausian. It worked, for a time, until he decided that he hadn't tortured Albel enough with his pointless banter. Albel made a mental note to rip out his vocal cords and tie off circulation to his dick with them as the older man proceeded to prod him.

"Look, I know you don't like it when we dig into your business, but you'll have to get used to it if you keep up with your adamant refusal to tell us anything. Life isn't gonna fix itself, you know. And _those _aren't going away anytime soon, either." He pointed to the scars visible on Albel's bare arms.

Albel folded his arms to hide the cuts from view. "Did the thought ever occur to you that I don't want your help? That perhaps I don't want my life to change? Have you any consideration for my opinion over my life? Don't feed me this bullshit if you won't even consider my perspective over the matter."

"And what _is_your oh-so-damned-important opinion over the matter, huh? It's pretty damn hard to consider your views when you won't even _tell _them to us, you know that?"

Albel tched and looked away from the blonde. He was right, in a sense, considering that he didn't want to tell anyone about his weaknesses, yet he refused to have others rule his life without a say in it. He was, essentially, stuck in a rut. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation for one side of him. He wished he could stop time and get away from this, but running is weakness. He had to face the realization that he was full of these contradictory rules and that was what formed his miraculously self-defeating nature. He couldn't make a decision and fulfill every requirement, yet that need for perfection was always prevalent and dominant when considering those decisions. However, he would soon come to realize that deciding between his choices would not be necessary.

"Hey, don't kill me for this, but…" He rummaged around in his back pocket and pulled out a neatly-folded note. "I found this on the floor when you left yesterday and I read through it. I know from this that you've been through hell, but at some point in time, you gotta realize that you're human and you're bound to make mistakes. No one's perfect."

"You _what?_" A look of shock paired with anger twisted his features. No one violates his privacy like that. Under no circumstances had he the right to read that note. But then again, it was because of his own reckless negligence that Cliff got ahold of the note in the first place… This was disastrous. "I should murder your parents for bringing such a worthless piece of shit into this world… If you breathe a word of this note to anyone, I will _mulch _you. Now get the hell away from me, scum."

"_You're _the one who dropped it, smartass… Now cut the threats because no one I know is afraid of an anorexic cutter that shoots his mouth off all the time. And you can tell me to fuck off as much as you damn well please, but it's not going to change a damn thing. But hell, what am I saying? Go ahead and be a coward. Run away from your problems. Just don't come cryin' to me about it…"

"I don't need you lecturing me." He unsheathed his katana and held it with practiced ease in his claw. It was poised to strike his right arm. "If you don't want me to drive this sword _through _my forearm and saw it in half, then drop the damned subject. I'm sick and tied of listening to you talk."

Cliff only sighed. "Goddammit, Albel…" He gave the younger man a reproachful glance before catching up to Fayt and Nel, who instantly questioned him about the argument that just occurred. Albel watched the three of them bicker back and forth for a little while, with jerked hand gestures indicating their anger at him. He didn't really care; it was none of their business. What they _should've _been focusing on is how to get out of this damned desert. The heat was making him nauseous, and he knew this was a sign of possible heat stroke. He _had _been living in Airyglyph for most of his life, so this wasn't an illogical possibility.

Finally, the entire group could see the last towering sand dune in relative detail. Beyond that would be harsher weather conditions and warped gravity in the Valley of Obduration, and that would be a bit of a tribulation for the team to surmount in order to arrive at the town of Jeinous. They could already see the rotating peaks of boulders suspended in the air. The blizzard that once ruled the unsteady land became a thunderstorm, and lightning shot up to the sky. It was a frightening sight to behold. When they had finally reached the base of the mountain, Nel announced to the team what they were up against in greater detail.

She sat down in the slight shade of the sand dune, glad that noon had passed. "We will be entering the Valley of Obduration now. Like I said before, it's one of the areas in Greeton where a decisive battle from a war a thousand years past had taken place. As you might've noticed, the weather conditions are extremes, and quite unpredictable. At one moment we have a blizzard, and the next we have a thunderstorm. This is the effects of incredible elemental runology, and one of the downsides of the spells we will be obtaining. The warped gravity is another repercussion to magic clashing with magic, and I must say, I'm amazed that such devastating effects remained, and this is the residual of how bad it once was."

Fayt, having been educated in physics, had analyzed the problem and spoke up. "Guys, if you see an area where you think you can jump from one cliff to another, don't chance it. If the gravity is as bad as I think it is, you might jump halfway before you cross into a different force and it pulls you to the ground as if you weighed quadruple what you do now. Be really careful."

"All right then, let's go." Cliff began to climb the side of the sand dune and paused at the top. He was surveying the land they had just crossed before turning and bearing witness to the epitome of spontaneity. It was truly shocking. He watched as boulders hurled themselves through the air and then came crashing back down with incredible force, enough to make craters. Others seemed to cross stranger forces, zigzagging vertically through the air. Massive chunks of rock big enough to be a considerable size when compared to a mountain remained upside-down and levitating, sometimes rotating on an axis. Below the mess of rocks were clouds, covering the basin of the valley. It would be too dangerous to cross down there, considering the meteorite force of which the boulders plummeted to the earth. Not only that, but powerful bolts of lightning shot to the sky from these clouds, along with blizzards and possibly acid rain. It would be a wise idea to take the path winding up and cross the sections of cliffs that… weren't attached to the ground in any way. He could only hope that they would hold his weight.

"Albel, what are you doing?" Nel and Fayt asked in unison. They were watching the Twisted One pace around the last flat area of the desert, picking up the occasional palm-sized rock and placing his findings in one of the empty knapsacks.

The Black Captain gave them a condescending glare. "Isn't it obvious? Judging by your explanation, we're going to need _something _to test where we'll be traveling to, and if we have to jump to another cliffside, we'll need to know where it's safe so we don't fall to our doom. As much as I'd rather have Cliff be the guinea pig, there's only one of him so if he falls, then we won't have anything else to test on it. And I, for one, have already fallen off a mountain, and I don't want to know what if would be like if I suddenly weighed four hundred pounds and traveled twice the distance." It was more than he preferred to say, but it stalled them from crossing into that abysmal pit with a meiotic name.

"I hadn't thought of that before, Albel. Good job." Fayt smiled at the caustic swordsman before climbing the last dune and checking in with Cliff on what they were up against. Nel lingered for a little while, offering help to Albel, but when he turned it down, she too embarked to join the others.

When Albel had collected an adequate amount of rocks, he dragged the knapsack up the sand dunes to where the others were waiting. Upon his arrival, they began the descent down the dune to the first suspended rocky path that led through the valley. Albel, however, hesitated as he watched a lightning bolt shoot up from the ground and split a boulder in half. The boulder was quite thick as well, leading him to question their safety on those brittle, rocky paths. Not only that, but a sickly purple haze permeated the wavering air in fluctuating amounts, allowing the air to seem particularly distorted in some areas. This was nothing he's ever seen or heard of before. Not only that, but the lack of experience with areas like these increases the chances of falling to his death, and he doubted that anyone would comb through such a dangerous area looking for bodies. In fact, he thought the clouds to be a covering of a mass unmarked grave below, of all the travelers and merchants who were unfortunate enough to have to cross this abysmal expanse. As much as he would've liked, there was no way around the valley. Flanking it were almost vertical, insurmountable peaks that look just as merciless. _Ah, hell… _he thought to himself. _The other fools are going first, so I'll have the highest chance of survival. That should be encouragement enough for me._ He threw caution to the winds and began his descent into the treacherous Valley of Obduration.

XxX

Short chapter, I know, but the next one will be particularly interesting and challenging to write. After all, how often do you watch a stone suddenly go flying over your head without anything to prompt it? By the way, I imagined the topography of Greeton to be rather odd as well, thus the reason why the gang left through a forest and then had to cross a desert. Well, thanks for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	11. Sanction in Calamity

**Drowning in the Red Sea**

**Note: **Heh, it's been quite a while. During that time frame, I've been writing in almost the opposite writing style as this, so now I have to get used to the normal stuff again. Also, I don't have an English class this semester, so forgive me if my writing is horrible here. And since I've not written this in forever, feel free to point out glaring errors in plotline... if you can remember the plotline. I can't. Funny thing is, I stopped writing this chapter 800 words in. I'm sure you'll notice a change at that point.

**Warning(s): **Swearing: yes. Sex: who would have sex in a place like this?

**Special Thanks: **Special thanks goes out to everyone who took the time to read this far and helped encourage me to write again. I appreciate your patience and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. I'm not going to mention anyone in particular here, because you've all helped so much. Guess this is to the new year, eh?

-Chapter 11-

Albel shook his head disapprovingly as Cliff thought it to be a good idea to kick a small pebble off of the suspended path and watch it float away. When it vanished, the team took to determining which would be the safest path with the least amount of boulders flying by at breakneck speeds or otherwise. However, the choice wasn't that simple. The rock road split into two paths, both involving many cliffs. However, on the left hand side, there were very few rocks being hurled about by warped gravity, but the presence of a lightning storm proved trecharous. The right side was pretty much the opposite, with few bolts of electricity, yet an earthen rain.

"Well, we could take the left side and avoid the rocks, or we can take the right and skip the lightning. It's a tough choice…" Fayt folded his arms and considered the positive and negative values of choosing either side.

Nel was the first to come up with a suggestion. "Let's take the left side. The lightning shouldn't be that hard to deal with so long as you have a conductor. I could use my lightning chain to see if there's anything of conductive value around, and we can use it to divert the bolts."

"You're all idiots. Fucking morons. You said that the weather changes every six seconds, right? Why not just wait until the lightning storm subsides and we have to deal with a heat wave or some- ouch! What the hell?" The rock that Cliff kicked had somehow made a round trip and clipped the back of Albel's head. The bitter swordsman glared at it furiously while rubbing where the rock had impacted. Luckily, the others didn't find it funny, or maybe they were biting their tongues in anticipation of the torture they would receive for their unruliness. At least, that's what Albel wanted to believe.

In truth, everyone was worried about the path that lay ahead. Not only would they have to cope with bipolar weather conditions and meteorite-rocks, but also the varying G's of gravity would produce tremendous strain on the body. Seeing the Twisted One getting hit in the head with a rock only reminded them of the hardships that would inevitably occur.

The departure into the convoluted land was a relatively safe one, with only minor bruises incurred by small chunks of earth hurdling through the air at differing speeds. Thankfully, there were no jumps to be made. Fayt gave a short briefing comprised of glaringly obvious facts before proceeding ahead, which Albel approved of. In his mind, the useless go first and the useful go last. The Twisted One watched his three comrades brave the unpredictable lands ahead, and he kept a safe distance to avoid serious injury. It was then that he realized the error of his ways.

The group had just cleared a massive section of levitating rock of a circular aspect. Albel was crossing the middle at the time when a lightning bolt pierced the rock, cleaving it in two. The explosive sound left ringing resounding in Albel's ears, and an accidental step back caused another section of rock to break off, leaving him hanging above nothingness. He tried to pull himself onto the cliff edge, but the increasingly powerful gravity in the area wouldn't allow it. Violet waves of distortion were lurching toward him, and he supposed they were the reason for it being so hard to hold onto a narrow ledge. "Shit…" He cursed aloud. He struggled once more to pull himself up when another ear-splitting roar of thunder announced the white bolt of light that narrowly missed him. The temporary influx of heat seared his left side, and he lost his grip on the ledge above. The section of brittle rock that was his last hope finally broke off from the tension. He was left freefalling for a tenth of a second. A tenth of a second where his reputation didn't matter, his secrets didn't matter, his hopes didn't matter, and his fears didn't matter. The only subject of importance was that he failed to survive, that his notions weren't as clever as they seemed. That tenth of a second was punctuated by the jerking of his arm as Cliff caught hold of his wrist. It took both Fayt and Cliff to pull the scrawny captain back onto land, and an exhausting task it was.

However, it took but a few moments for the two to recover and chastise Albel six ways to Sunday. The majority of it was "What the hell were you thinking? You can't lag behind or you'll get killed, like you almost did! There's a lot at stake here, Nox, so keep it together and stick with us, got it?" Albel nodded absently. He'd already harassed himself for his ineptitude; he didn't need to hear it from those who were more maladroit than he.

Cliff proceeded to lead Albel by the arm to keep him out of harm's way throughout the journey. The two-tone didn't complain, much to everyone's intrigue. Fayt was under the impression that Albel might possibly be adjusting to the situation the three had put him in. Nel thought nothing of it, and Cliff was vying to keep his mind off of the subject. In all actuality, Albel's complacency had nothing to do with anyone but himself. He knew full well now that this place was dangerous- he almost died, after all. Thus, it would do him no good to complain; rather, if Cliff wanted to save him from plummeting to his doom, that was fine. However, should Cliff try to cling to him to keep himself from falling, Albel just might 'forget' he had a claw when he 'tries' to pull Cliff up. It would simply be an accident, caused by Cliff's own negligence.

"Did the weather shift? I'm suddenly freezing..." Fayt stated with a shiver. He wrapped his arms about himself to keep the goosebumps down.

"Damn, I don't know, _Fayt_..." Albel replied with biting sarcasm. "Do you suppose these snowflakes might have something to do with that?" He already went through one adventure with Fayt's obvious remarks, and he managed to hold his tongue through most of them. However, he'd hit his tolerance limit.

Nel sighed. She'd much prefer to keep going while the weather wasn't caustic. "Knock it off, Albel. Now's not the time to be irritable. We have to keep moving before this snowstorm turns into something worse." She waited just long enough for their nods of approval before leading the way through the twisted paths cautiously.

She proceeded with trepidation, not knowing when the weather or gravity will shift. Just before a large stone platform, the warped purplish haze of modified gravity enveloped to her and she was promptly pulled to the ground, the jagged rocky surface biting through her thin garments. She tried to push herself away from the ground, even if to just ease the pressure, but she couldn't resist the force regardless of what body part she moved. She was completely paralyzed. The others stared in shock at her for but a moment, and Fayt and Cliff rushed to help, but to no avail. When they had passed into the shifted zone, they were condemned to the same fate. When the haze had passed she had already spent a full minute pressed to the ground. Every inch of her body hurt: muscles, bones, and all. She noted that her leg, stomach, chest, and shoulders were punctured in various areas where the rocks had been sharpest, and she tended only to the deepest ones. She didn't have enough time to use runology on all of her injuries.

Fayt gave her a worried look, but she waved it off as she continued to lead them. He and Cliff were unhurt by the volatile force, having suffered only minor lingering pain. "At least the snowstorm quit..." he said with a sigh as he realized that no one had anything to say about what just happened. They were all dead-set on getting out of the hellhole.

The group passed through the stone platform without further difficulty, until the rotted ground in the narrow path beyond it. There was hardly enough room for one person to pass. Nel made it across with little difficulty, thanks to impeccable balance. There was only a little longer to go; she could glimpse the end of the mess. "We're almost there!" She shouted back at them with relief.

Fayt made it across safely as well, having only lost his balance once. Luckily for him, he pitched forward onto the path rather than off the sides. He too waited with Nel to watch Cliff and Albel make it across.

Albel was to busy concentrating on surveying the path laid before him to really comprehend what Cliff had mumbled. The blonde disappeared from his view and Albel felt the pressure on his good arm dissipate. Deciding that this meant he was free again, he was about to proceed forward when he felt the overbearing Klausian's hands settle on his waist. The two-tone promptly pushed them off, quite agitated at the forward gesture. "What do you think you're doing, shithead?" Came his derisive response.

"Yeouch! Damn, Albel, that claw of yours really hurts... 'Sides, I already told you that I'm trying to keep you from falling again!" It seems that the blonde is aggravated as well.

"You're pushing it..." Albel growled brusquely as he felt gloved hands on his waist again. He already knew how to walk; he didn't need help... However, he started down the path, keeping his condemning comments to himself. He slipped but once because Cliff's hand shifted a little lower, and the unpredicted movement disturbed his concentration. He passed the halfway point without much difficulty, and it was there that another haze of gravity passed over them, and their new combined weight far exceeded that of the maximum capacity of the path, and they broke through.

Albel gasped sharply when he felt the rock crumble beneath his feet, and he scrambled to grab hold of what remained of the path. However, it was out of his reach. He expected to be jerked to stillness by cliff's arms, but soon realized that the blonde was falling with him. Was he doomed? The road beneath them was approaching at an alarming rate... He closed his eyes and sighed softly, unsure of how he felt toward death. Was he relieved that he would meet his end in but a second? Was he angry? Sad?

There would be no need to answer.

There was another patch of gravity acting beneath them, and their fall was suddenly shortened to that of slow motion, as if they weighed an eighth of what they did traditionally. The two landed safely on the road below, shocked but unscathed. "Whew, thought I was a goner..." Albel heard Cliff say. "But there's no way in hell we'll be able to get back to where Nel and Fayt are."

Fayt leaned over the edge and shouted below. "Hey! Are you all right?" Worry was evident in his tone.

"Yeah, we're fine! We'll meet you at the next town! If you don't see us in 24 hours, send a search team!" Cliff shouted back. The Klausian had no intention of dying... or letting the corrosive swordsman die either, despite how appealing it sounded at times. However, their dilemma now was finding a way back to the top without dying.

Albel crossed his arms and scowled. "You realize that the only way to make it up there is to scale the cliffside? I don't know about you, but _I_ don't have a death wish..."

"I find that hard to believe..." The blonde quipped, gesturing toward Albel's forearm. He disregarded all sharp insults spat by the younger man as he led him by the arm through the remainder of the hellish landscape. There was a plethora of deep grooves in the wall of the cliff, some big enough to be caves. It would be the perfect place to stay for the night, should it take them until nightfall to reach the edge. They had about 200 yards to cover, possibly more considering how tightly the paths wound. It wouldn't be that bad if he were alone, but since Albel did not have the advantages of a Klausian, Cliff would have to slow down to keep pace with him. And since there was a thunderstorm brewing over the two, that could prove to be deadly.

Both blonde and half-blonde bolted when the first lightning struck uncomfortably close to the two. The ear-splitting crackle of the bolt and crumbling rock rendered the two temporarily deaf as they ran to escape the electrical wrath of the warped battleground. Bolt after bolt thrust from the hazy grey cloud formed over them, each destroying anything in its path with intense ferocity. Parts of the road crumbled beneath their feet as they ran blindly through the treacherous area, completely disregarding caution in favour of avoiding being fried to charcoal.

Fortunately, the storm evaporated as abruptly as it had formed. Most of their distance had been covered in their flight away from the storm, and there was but ten yards left of distance. The two stopped and Albel doubled over panting while Cliff simply breathed through his mouth for a few minutes. "That was a helluva close one... I'm surprised we made it. But damn, Nox, maybe if you ate more, then you'd have the energy for that sprint."

_We're back on last-name terms now_ "That's nonsense. I'm just not a fucking track-runner, okay?" The younger man straightened up, still breathing heavily.

"Well, we can't stand around wasting time," Cliff stated nonchalantly, clapping the swordsman on the back and hearing a disgruntled growl in reply. "Who knows what we'll get next: maybe an ice storm with hail the size of golf balls, or another 50 G's." He led the way, walking the rest of the distance to the cliffside.

Albel watched him pass for a few moments before follo0wing him reluctantly. _What the hell's a golf ball?_ He wondered silently to himself.

"It's gonna be a tough one, looks like." He pondered aloud. "You up for another climb?" He asked mockingly, in reference to his first attempt to scale down a cliff.

"Just shut the hell up and go." He was already tired of chiseling at himself for his own weakness; he didn't need someone else to remind him of an event that he had successfully repressed up until this time. He watched the blonde expertly climb fifteen feet of rock at a ninety-degree angle with no problems. Cliff was now at the mouth of a groove, leaning over the edge and looking at him. He could tell that the blonde had said something to him, but he couldn't hear it over the wind that had kicked up. A heavy gust blew his hair about and threatened to upset his balance should he move from where he stood. Nevertheless, it was imperative that he makes it up the cliffside. Wind was always the harbinger of a storm, and Albel knew he was in for quite a shocking event if he didn't get his ass up the wall.

He never had much of an interest in rock-climbing, and subsequently, he wasn't very good at it. He didn't have the arm strength to be able to hoist himself upward against a heavier gravity. The sharp rocks that jutted out from the wall pressed against his injured arm and he thought he could feel blood start to seep from the wounds again. Rain was starting to fall, and his hair was becoming wet and promptly plastered to his face. He couldn't both hold onto the wall and wipe the hair out of his eyes, so he just ignored it and continued. After all, any time wasted could lead to death by a thunderstorm. He persevered and dragged himself up the ledge, inch by inch when it came to that, and pulled himself into the mouth of the cave just before the lightning began to strike. With a practiced hand, he wiped his hair out of his face before collapsing against the wall.

"Congrats on not falling," Cliff greeted. "Unless this place warped time too, it looks like it took us 'til nightfall to make it out of that mess. I just hope Nel and Fayt made it out okay too." The blonde crossed his arms and leaned against the wall opposite to Albel. "You okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm _fine_, just shut the _fuck_ up and leave me alone..." He ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't okay, he was cold as fuck and starving and tired but he had a reputation to uphold. The two-tone closed his eyes and rested his head against the warm rock behind him. "Knowing our luck, there's probably giant centipedes that'll eat us alive before we find the other end of this shithole."

"Could you be any less pessimistic? Think about this positively for once in your life... At least we made it out of that place okay. It could've turned out a helluva lot worse."

"I'm not pessimistic. I just think ahead." _I'm not frustrating or sarcastic or moody either. Really. _He opened his eyes and averted his gaze from Cliff's. "Look: I asked you to leave me the hell alone, now will you listen to me or do I have to carve your tongue out?"

"Fine, whatever." Cliff complied without a fight. He was tired of the voice of doom across from him, anyway. What he needed now was rest. It still might take some time to reach the surface again, and as a last resort, they may have to hike another hundred feet up a vertical surface. If this becomes the case, he wanted to have the energy to do so. He considered warning the swordsman to get some sleep as well, but it didn't take long to decide it was a waste of breath as all his past warnings went unheeded, and when it came to listening to others, Albel was the slowest of slow learners. _Well, his loss. _The blonde thought offhandedly. It didn't take long for him to drift off into slumber.

Albel, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. The adrenaline was just beginning to ebb from his body and he couldn't bring his mind to slow down. The events of the day cycled through his head repeatedly, with only his most embarrassing or flustering moments to be remembered. To him, the day was filled with weakness and failure. He was so tired of this, so tired of constantly berating himself for his flaws and getting nowhere. He was stuck in a rut. Nothing worked, not self-inflicted pain, not others chastising him, not the pain that may be a repercussion of his obviously bad choices. He was doomed to total imperfection. Well, if parasuicide didn't work, then he could always try the real thing...

He instantly pulled away from that thought. Suicide was for the weak that couldn't handle reality. It was for those who wanted a permanent solution to a temporary problem. But this dilemma seemed so permanent...

No. It wasn't. He just needed a different approach.

He sighed and pulled his glove off with his teeth. He knew it was insanity to expect different results from the same procedure, but it seemed to still be working, albeit only slightly. It still stung, as he expected; his nerves weren't dead yet.

However, his emotions were.


End file.
